


Piercing the Veil

by Moirae_Maat



Series: Warring Minds [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate School, Banishment, Blood Magic, Demons & Daemons, Kidnapping, M/M, Multiple Belief Systems, Necromancy, Not kidding - super slow updates, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Past Abuse, Psychological Torture, Revenge, Ritual Sex, Slow Updates, Species Descrimination, Summoning, Torture, Vampires, We're talking glacial here, Werewolves, traitors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 105,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moirae_Maat/pseuds/Moirae_Maat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry swears he’ll bring Sirius back from the Veil, even if he has to go to a new school, learn the dark arts, make deals with other-worldly beings, and raise the dead. He’ll make deals with demons, be stalked by vampires, kidnapped by werewolves, and snubbed by elves. He’ll encounter assassins, stumble upon thieves, find deities, befriend death, and undertake deadly quests for weapons of ancient power. He’d even die if it would do any good. </p><p>Harry is determined that no matter what, Sirius will live again; he swore it on his soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking from a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: This will be a long story with slow updates, but it will never be abandoned. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, AU from the end of OtP and ignores or changes much of the content in HBP and DH.

The third Saturday of June dawned bright and beautiful as the sun painted the awaiting clouds in shimmering hues of pink and gold. Slivers of sunlight slowly crept over the battlements of Hogwarts and infiltrated the crowded room that housed a small, sleeping boy and piles of books. His cheek was resting on an open book and black hair was spread across the pages, as if he had fallen asleep while still studying. The boy was silently screaming in the grip of a nightmare by the time the sunlight filtered across his eyelids. Harry awoke with a start, his arm outstretched, the image of his godfather falling through the Veil branded before his eyes, and a denial tumbling from his lips.

“No! Sirius!”

His eyes slowly refocused on the world around him and he remembered that he was in the Room of Requirement. He had fled here yesterday morning in order to release some of his anger after Dumbledore had revealed the prophecy to him. His rage at the Wizarding World’s stupidity and his own prophesized fate had driven him to destroy everything around him for almost four hours straight before his grief at Sirius’ death had caught up with him and he had collapsed to the floor in silent tears. The teen and his Godfather had been exchanging letters since Harry had helped Sirius escape at the end of third year, and the older wizard had been the only person to consistently believe in Harry throughout the Triwizard Tournament. The older man’s letters had been sources of comfort for Harry during that time, although Sirius’ unique sense of humor and irreverent attitude had taken some getting used to.

As he was sitting there in sorrow, he kept picturing Sirius falling through the Veil until that image was all he could see. After three or four hours of staring at the scene of his Godfather’s death and trying to find a way that he could have stopped it from occurring, Harry finally noticed that the stone arch from which the Veil hung seemed to subtly light up as Sirius fell through. Seeing the intricate pattern covering the stone had shocked him out of his grief because he recognized one of the larger symbols on the stone from some of Hermione’s scratch paper last year. He remembered the bushy-haired girl muttering under her breath about “perfect runes” the night before he found that particular piece of scratch paper crumpled into a ball on the common room table.

Harry had rather desperately latched onto the idea that runes could help him free his Godfather from the Veil and had asked the Room of Requirements for any books it had that dealt with the subject of Runes. The teen had no idea where to start looking for information on the Veil and the runes he thought he saw there – most of it was likely trapped somewhere back in the Department of Mysteries – but it would be more trouble than it would be worth to go back to his dorm, get his invisibility cloak, and then sneak into the library to riffle through the Restricted Section. He was sure there would be teachers patrolling the halls after six students had slipped out of Hogwarts and invaded the Ministry of Magic. Without his cloak there was no way that he’d be able to get to his trunk without getting caught and with his luck it would be Snape who found him.

The young wizard had almost been buried in the stack of books that appeared at his very open request, but had quickly gotten to his feet and snatched a book off the top of one of the stacks surrounding him. He approached a chair and table that were suddenly in the corner of the room and frantically began leafing through the book for anything that had to do with the Veil.

When he’d glanced up after setting aside that first book, the piles of books he’d seen earlier had somehow shrunk in size and migrated closer to the desk he was sitting at. Harry simply shrugged and decided it was a feature of the Room of Requirement before picking up a new book to look through.

Harry remembered going through several books on runes before his eyes had begun to slip closed and he had fallen asleep looking at the list of recommended books in The Student Index of Runes. Now that he was awake again, he directed his eyes back to the book he had just been sleeping on and finished reading the list of recommendations he’d found there. He decided to take a look at Runes and their Uses, but first he had to find the book in the mess surrounding him. In reaction to his reading of the book’s title, the Room of Requirement shifted for a moment and Harry found the book he was looking for sitting right in front of him. Well, that made life a lot easier, Harry thought with a smile.

He had just started to flick through Runes and their Uses when two owls flew into the Room of Requirement and settled on his table. The smaller owl hooted imperiously as he lifted his leg, his large ear tufts and ochre red eyes startling feral against his chocolate and caramel plumage. Harry barely had time to remove the envelope before the smaller owl took off and the larger owl twitched its feathers impatiently. The dark-haired boy turned towards the black and gold owl that was staring at him with piercing orange eyes and reached towards the parchment on his leg slowly. Harry carefully removed the envelope and watched as the second owl flew out the window as well.

Looking down at the letter in his hands, Harry noticed it was from Gringotts and addressed to Heir Apparent Harry James Potter.

Since when was he an Heir Apparent? And what in the world was an Heir Apparent anyway, Harry wondered as he opened the wax seal holding the letter closed and began to read.

.~.~.~.

_Heir Apparent Potter,_

_Gringotts offers its sincere condolences for the death of your Godfather Sirius Orion Black. We are writing to inform you that you will need to be present at Gringotts within the next sevenday in order to receive your inheritance according to your Godfather’s Will before the Will becomes invalid due to Ministry regulations._

_We await your visit,_

_Spearback, Head of the Goblin Office of Wills_   
_Bloodburn, Head of the Goblin Inheritance Office_

.~.~.~.

Harry froze his reaction to the reminder that his Godfather was probably dead before making a mental note that he needed to go to Gringotts within the next week. He had no idea how he’d get there after being dumped with the Dursleys for the summer, but he’d find a way somehow.

The young wizard moved onto the letter the feral-looking owl had delivered and slowly opened it. He watched dumbfounded as a thick book fell out of the thin parchment and onto the table, before carefully shaking the letter to see if anything else was going to fall out. When nothing else happened, Harry tipped the letter right-side up and finally started to read what was written on the parchment.

.~.~.~.

_Dear Prospective Student,_

_You are hereby invited to attend K’ver, Magical Academy of the Lost Arts. Enclosed is a book that contains information about the school. If you would like to attend, please remove the last page from the book and follow the directions written there._

_\- The K’ver Staff_

.~.~.~.

Harry looked at the letter skeptically before refolding it, slipping it inside of the book, and placing the book to the side so he could return to researching the Veil. Why would he want to go to another school when he had everything he wanted here at Hogwarts?

“Now where was that book he had seen mentioned in Runes and their Uses? Wasn’t it called Olde World Rhunes? Hmmm, it should be around here somewhere…” Harry muttered absently as he looked down at the list, double checking the name of the new book he was looking for.

Harry looked down to find Olde World Rhunes resting near his hand on the table and opened it to the table of contents. There was a long list of topics, but he was only interested in the fifth chapter, “Rhunik Kaumbinations”. He found a list of books at the back of that chapter that was accompanied by a multitude of written notes in the margins. The majority of the scribbling said something along the lines of Stupidest book I ever read and Time better spent sleeping, which encouraged Harry to ignore those particular books. Someone else had absently written Not worth the money – Morgan recommended Merging the Green Hills and the Ice Fields: Using Norse and Celtic Runes, 1648 besides one of the titles that he was interested in, so Harry was off on a new search to find Merging the Green Hills and the Ice Fields. Thankfully the Room of Requirement happened to have the book and promptly provided it when Harry asked for the title by name.

.~.~.~.

_Merging the Green Hills and the Ice Fields: Using Norse and Celtic Runes_

_Throughout history Norse Runes and Celtic Runes have been used together in a series of experiments to form containers and prisons. The most famous application of this unique experimentation is the prison known as Trichardg, (for more information see Treasures of the Runic World by Exmar K. Thespot) and is held up as a superb example of blended magicks. It is a sad fact of life that modern wizards have been unable to duplicate the successes of their forefathers, although…_

.~.~.~.

“Treasures of the Runic World, please.”

Harry had to wait for several minutes before the small volume finally appeared on the table. The teen immediately opened it to “Chapter 8: Trichardg” and began to read.

.~.~.~.

_Trichardg: The Cage of the Northern Skies_

_The infamous prison of Trichardg is a beautiful blend of magical protections. The outer magical defenses are a combination of runic magic, wards, curses and traps, while the highest security cells in the prison are found within the Veil of the North. This high-security area can supposedly be opened through a combination of runic magic and the forbidden arts, but the process of doing so has been lost to time. The prison itself was invaded in 1240 and the British Ministry of Magic appropriated the Veil of the North for further study; it has not been seen since._

_Thankfully the prison wards are still active and have been studied for centuries from every angle imaginable. They have been added to over time, although the interaction…_

.~.~.~.

The Veil of the North had to be the Veil that Sirius fell into! It just had to be. There were no other veils mentioned in any of the texts he had looked at and he was sure that the Veil was covered in runes. It made sense that the Ministry of Magic would dump the Veil of the North in the Department of Mysteries if they couldn't figure out how to make it work. It was just like the Ministry to leave dangerous things lying around in unprotected places; after all, they considered it perfectly acceptable to keep life-altering prophecies, mutant brains, and dangerous projects so poorly protected that a full-out fire-fight had to happen before the wards reacted to strangers. Harry rolled his eyes. It was official; the Ministry of Magic was full of idiots, but the one who took the crown had to be Fudge. He tried a kid in a full court for the magical equivalent of a misdemeanor and appointed Umbridge as a teacher. The previous minister had to be pretty lacking as well not to give Sirius a fair trial in open court. Maybe a lack of common sense and fair play was a qualification for being Minister of Magic?

Harry hauled his thoughts back from their tangent on the Ministry of Magic’s stupidity over the years and took another look at the passage in Treasures of the Runic World. It mentioned the forbidden arts, but Harry had no idea what those were, so he asked the Room of Requirements for any materials that mentioned the forbidden arts.

Harry was disappointed when a single, yellowed piece of parchment appeared on the desk in front of him twenty minutes later, but began to read anyway.

.~.~.~.

_Essay on the Forbidden Arts, by M.J. Douglin, History of Magic, 1876_

_The forbidden arts, often called the lost arts due to the ban on their practice within the British Wizarding World, generally include blood magic, necromancy, summoning, thread magic, soul magic, and other similar branches of magic. It is common for those who have talent in the lost arts to apprentice to Masters of the Guilds, although very few would-be apprentices are ever accepted without having already had basic training in the subject._

_As of 1250, the lost arts were taught in six schools across the world, but by 1532 the only school still teaching the lost arts was Kashien Vershlunt Ergenmier Risuellmptsu. Kashien, often known as K’ver, selects only the best in the world to attend and does not accept applications or transfers._

_Most schools stopped offering the forbidden arts in 1389 after a student accidentally released a horde of zombies and killed her whole graduating class. This incident…_

.~.~.~.

Harry paused and looked back at the word K’ver, knowing he’d seen it somewhere recently. He jerked upright as he realized that it had been on the letter he’d looked at and promptly discarded earlier. Didn’t it say K’ver, Academy of the Lost Arts? He had to find it! Harry immediately began to search through the stacks surrounding him, his shout echoing around the Room of Requirements.

“Where’s that letter!”


	2. The Lost Arts

The Room of Requirements had evidently taken Harry’s exclamation to mean that he wanted every letter it had ever contained, resulting in a flood of parchment and envelopes appearing on the desk in front of the wizard. The teen looked at the pile oddly before asking specifically for his letter from K’ver and watching as the pile slowly melted away to leave a single letter on the table.

Harry picked up the letter and read it again to confirm that he _had_ been invited to attend K’ver before he started to get his hopes up. Once he was sure of what the short statement said, Harry asked the Room of Requirement for the book that came with the letter and waited until it appeared on the table.

Harry double-checked the book title before opening it to the first page and looking down at the table of contents.

.~.~.~.

**_ 1.0 Introduction _ **

**_1.1 Welcome Letter   |   1.2 Quick Facts_ **

**_ 2.0 Rules _ **

**_2.1 Rules   |   2.2 Penalties_ **

**_ 3.0 Classes _ **

**_3.1 Class Set Up   |   3.2 Required Classes According to Species_ ** _| 3.2.1 Elves   |   3.2.2 Vampires   |   3.3.3 Werewolves   |   3.2.4 Daemons   |   3.2.5 Humans **|   3.3 Electives** | 3.3.1 Open Electives   |   3.3.2 Ability-Determined Electives  **|**    **3.4 Class Index** |3.4.1 Potions   |   3.4.2 Transfiguration   |   3.4.3 Charms   |   3.4.4 Herbology   |   3.4.5 Weapons   |   3.4.6 Dark Arts   |   3.4.7 Defense Against Dark Arts   |   3.4.8 History   |   3.4.9 Runes   |   3.4.10 Healing   |   3.4.11 Summoning   |   3.4.12 Death Magic   |   3.4.13 Magic Creatures   |   3.4.14 Arithmancy   |   3.4.15 Wandless Magic   |   3.4.16 Differential Magics   |   3.4.17 Transcendental Magics   |   3.4.18 Mind Arts   |   3.4.19 Blood Magic   |   3.4.20 Transportation   |   3.4.21 Languages_

**_ 4.0 Mastery and Adept Programs _ **

**_4.1 Overview   |   4.2 Options   |   4.3 Classes   |   4.4 Requirements_ **

**_ 5.0 Details _ **

**_5.1 Time Dilation   |   5.2 Acceptance Form   |   5.3 Transportation   |   5.4 Arrival Week_ ** _| 5.4.1 Room Assignment   |   5.4.2 Testing Week   |   5.4.3 Class Scheduling   |   5.4.4 School Supplies_

.~.~.~.

Harry blinked in reaction to the long list before reviewing the class options once more and checking to make sure that the school offered the subjects he would need to get Sirius back from the Veil. Runes was clearly listed, as was Summoning and Blood Magic, and he supposed that Necromancy could be considered Death Magic because it was raising the dead...

The teen flipped a few more pages into the book and began to read.

.~.~.~.

**_1.2 Quick Facts:_ **

_\- K’ver boasts over 250 classes in 21 categories for Novices._

_\- We provide more advanced classes in the Mastery and Adept Programs._

_\- We don’t care what your name is, so letters are addressed to your magical signature._

_\- Acceptance means you attend until you either graduate or die. Deserters are hunted down and killed._

_\- This is an eight year school. Even if you finish the required classes early, you are not allowed to leave before your eight years are up._

_\- We employ a Time Dilation Field, so two years of work are shrunk into one year of time._

_\- We don’t care what you do on your own time, as long as you don’t bring the teaching staff into it. This includes duels, alliances, murder, torture, coercion, sex, and army building._

.~.~.~.

Army building? Harry thought curiously before his mind caught onto the fact that the book said the school allowed murder without repercussions. He was seriously thinking about going to a school that didn’t care whether or not he was killed? Maybe Rita Skeeter was right and he was going insane. Well, it really couldn’t be any worse than Voldemort trying to kill him every year, although now that he knew the reason behind Tom’s actions he thought the man was an idiot. Was he so obsessed with his own power that he’d believe the words of prophecy that might have absolutely nothing to do with him? He couldn’t be the only Dark Lord in history and there was no guarantee that Trelawny had been talking about Voldemort anyway…

Harry shook off that train of thought and refocused on the book, turning to the section explaining how the classes at K’ver worked.

.~.~.~.

**_3.1 Class Set Up:_ **

_\- All classes have a single, two hour class each week that will be either lecture, practicum, demonstration, or test._

_\- Class work is due when the staff says it is. No late work accepted; even if you did die the night before._

_\- Practice rooms are available outside of class. So are guided practicals._

_\- All classes have either Final Exams or Final Projects. Most have both._

_\- We will not coddle you; you are expected to keep up on your own or die trying._

.~.~.~.

Okay, so K’ver demanded a lot of independent work from their students, but the trade off was an equal amount of freedom. It would allow him to focus on the subjects he was interested in, but the book had mentioned that there were classes he was required to take and he wasn’t sure if he’d be interested in them all. He’d take a look at what was required and then decide.

Harry leafed past about twenty more pages before finding the next important entry and looking down at the list.                                                                                                      

.~.~.~.

**_3.2.5 Humans_ **

_ Required Classes (years of class or proficiency level required) _

_Potions (4)   |   Transfiguration (4)   |   Charms (4)   |   Herbology (2)   |   Conditioning/Weapons (2)   |   Dark Arts (4)   |   Defense Against the Dark Arts (4)   |   History (1)_

.~.~.~.

That didn’t seem too bad and looked like it’d give him enough time to do his own research… But what school had four years of the Dark Arts as a basic requirement? And why only four years of the other core subjects?  Hogwarts made students take five before allowing people to specialize and start dropping classes that didn’t interest them. Maybe five years didn’t fit into K’ver’s time dilation field very well?

The young wizard went on to read the section about electives, wanting to make sure that K’ver actually offered all of the forgotten arts that the short essay had mentioned. He’d seen a few in the table of contents, but several others had been missing. If Harry signed the acceptance form and then discovered they didn’t have the magic he needed to rescue Sirius, there were going to be problems.

.~.~.~.

**_3.3.1 Open Electives_ **

_ Electives available to all students, regardless of species or ability. Some require placement testing. _

_Body Weapons   |   Passive Weapons   |  Specialized Weapons   |  Realm History   |  Heritage   |  High Social Customs   |  Runes   |  Healing   |  Magic Creatures   |  Arithmancy   |  Wandless Magic   |  Languages   |  Gathering   |  Transportation   |  Mind Arts   |  Transcendental Magics   |  Body Magic   |  Sex Magic_

**_3.3.2 Ability-Determined Electives_ **

_ Electives have species requirements, or that require specific abilities or testing to attend. This includes all classes that are based on the classes listed below. _

_High Potions   |  High Transfiguration   |  Live Transfiguration   |  Animagus Transformations   |  Conjuring   |  Permanent Charms   |  Power Charms   |  High Charms   |  High Herbology   |  Magical Body Weapons   |  Magical Passive Weapons   |  Magical Specialized Weapons   |  Torture and Interrogation   |  Resistance Training   |  Hunter Principles   |  High Runes   |  Wards   |  High Healing   |  Summoning   |  Death Magic   |  Soul Magic   |  High Arithmancy   |  Time Magic   |  Spell Creation   |  High Wandless Magic   |  Channeling   |  High Arts   |  Artifact Creation   |  Wand Making   |  Weapons Forging   |  Core Searching   |  Shamanism   |  Purification   |  Terraforming   |  Ancient Magic   |  Ritual Magic   |  Thread Magic   |  Alchemy   |  Were Transformation   |  Vampire Transformation   |  Demon Transformation   |  Demon Magic   |  Vampire Magic   |  Elven Magic   |  Weather Manipulation   |  Nature Manipulation   |  Element Manipulation   |  High Mind Arts   |  Illusions   |  Blood Magic   |  Family Blood Magic   |  Historical Blood Magic_

.~.~.~.

Yeah, K’ver had the subjects he was interested in, plus some magic he hadn’t even known existed. Why would a school offer a class about torture and interrogation? Or resistance training? What was resistance training anyway?

Harry flipped through the following pages on the different courses, stopping every once in awhile to take a closer look at a subject description. Some of the courses were absurdly focused on admittedly aggressive attacks, but Harry couldn’t help but think that Hagrid would have enjoyed some of the classes that talked about making contact with magical creatures from around the world. He skipped the entire section on more advanced programs, but paused at the explanation about the school’s time dilation field. It would certainly be nice to have eight years of schooling in four years…

.~.~.~.

**_5.1 Time Dilation_ **

_The Time Dilation Field here at K’ver is a site specific spell that activates on the property and repeats weeks of time while simultaneously allowing students to leave the capture field and the Realm every other weekend during a school year. The year is split into two twenty-four week periods, both of which are doubled in time to provide ninety-six weeks of schooling and four weeks of vacation a year. Vacation time in between the years is not doubled, so return on time by portkey or be hunted down and killed. This is your only warning._

_There are also specific time fields about each teacher’s halls, as one teacher teaches every subject at all levels simultaneously. If you want to learn more about the Time Dilation Field and its effects, enroll in Time Magic your 8 th year._

.~.~.~.

That was an interesting explanation, but Harry had no interest in learning more about the subject. He definitely wouldn’t be enrolling in Time Magic any time soon and figured the subject was for people like Hermione who wanted to know everything under the sun. He was simply happy to know it worked and he could reap the benefits of what he knew was a complex piece of magic.

Thankfully the acceptance form was relatively simple; it just required Harry to smear some blood on the page, and the school would register his acceptance. The young wizard moved to the next section to look at the page on transportation.

.~.~.~.

**_5.3 Transportation_ **

_The acceptance page is a tracer for a portkey. Once you have accepted entrance to K’ver, the portkey transfers a small tracer to your magical aura and will activate at 10 am on August 25 th. Have all of your luggage with you at that time or it will be left behind._

.~.~.~.

That was pretty clear; once someone accepted entrance into K’ver, they were going to K’ver whether they wanted to or not. And they were going to stay there eight years or die trying to graduate. It sounded pretty harsh, but the school had evidently graduated the best in their fields with rules like that. After all, anyone who wasn’t good at what they did simply didn’t graduate because they were already dead. Harry had never been the best at anything other than DADA and wasn’t exactly sure that he’d be able to protect himself long enough to graduate.

Harry shut the book and set it down carefully. It was a little scary that the book for K’ver was over 500 pages long and still failed to tell the reader very much about the school itself. Yes, the book mentioned classes and a general list of rules, but it hadn’t mentioned anything else. It was nothing like Hogwarts, A History*, which talked about everything from charms on the school to school rules and odd pieces of information that related to Hogwarts. The book on K’ver was rather barren in comparison to Hermione’s favorite book, but K’ver evidently believed in the sink-or-swim principle and happily dumped piranhas and leeches in the water to make it more interesting.

Harry settled back in his chair and thought about exactly what it would mean to attend K’ver instead of Hogwarts. He would have to leave behind Ron and Hermione, the Weasleys, Remus, Dumbledore, everyone. Would it be worth it to bring Sirius back?

Harry closed his eyes and leaned even further back into his chair to think about it. Yes, it would be worth it. He would do anything to bring back the one person who had cared for him; he’d even die if it would help. It would be hard to attend a different school, but it would be worth it if the school could teach him how to get Sirius back from the Veil. And that wasn’t even considering the opportunities K’ver would give him to learn magic that could help him defend himself against Voldemort.  

Harry made his decision and opened his eyes to ask the Room of Requirements for a knife. He leaned forward and reopened the book to the acceptance letter before picking up the knife and cutting his thumb lightly. The teen then pressed his bloody finger to the parchment in the book and watched what happened.

The book glowed for a moment and the words _ACCEPTED_ appeared across the form, affirming the fact that Harry was now enrolled in K’ver for the next eight years.

Harry looked up from the book, his eyes glinting in the bright room, and clenched his bleeding hand into a fist over the table.

“I’ll bring you back Sirius, I swear it. I’ll bring you back from the Veil, even if it means going to Hell itself. On my soul, Sirius, on my soul, I’ll bring you back home.”

Harry didn’t notice the bright flash that lit up the room at his words or the fact that his finger was suddenly healed, although he did notice that the book was suddenly open to the last section.

.~.~.~.

**_5.4.1 Room Assignment_ **

_\- Rooms will be assigned when you arrive._

_\- All students are assigned a single room. There are no roommates. Lovers are fine, but no permanent roommates._

_\- You will ward your own room. We don’t care how you do so or what you do it with, but we will not be protecting your room for you._

**_5.4.2 Testing Week_ **

_\- You will arrive at K’ver a week early for testing._

_\- Inform the teacher present upon your arrival what classes you have decided to attend._

_\- Testing for placement will occur in all selected and required classes. Students will be placed according to your skill level; objections are futile._

**_5.4.3 School Supplies_ **

_\- Some class materials can be found locally. Most will have to be bought after students have reached K’ver and gone through Testing Week._

_\- All common materials can be found at the Myryl Markets. Students are expected to find thier own rare ingredients and all ingredients for school projects will be procured at personal cost._

_\- All of the common books and supplies are listed on the class pages. So are some of the rarer items used in selected classes._

.~.~.~.

Harry absentmindedly closed the book now that he was finished reading and fondly watched Hedwig fly into the room. The owl landed smoothly on the table and the teen reached out a hand to scratch her head. He ruffled the feathers there before smoothing them back down and talking to his beautiful owl.

“Hey there girl, do you have something for me?”

Hedwig hooted softly in return and lifted her right leg, where Harry saw a letter had been attached. The wizard reached out a hand and removed the parchment, promptly unfolding it to read the contents. If it was anything like the previous letters, then he needed to read it as soon as possible to have time to figure out what it was talking about.

.~.~.~.

_Harry –_

_Remember that the train leaves at 2pm. Its noon now and you haven’t packed yet. You can’t spend all your time mourning over Sirius. Make sure you get something to eat before you leave, I didn’t see you at lunch._

_– Dumbledore_

.~.~.~.

Harry crumpled the letter and left it on the table before he reached out to grab K’ver, Academy of the Lost Arts and extended a hand to his owl.

“Hedwig, you want to come with to my room or go for a flight before we leave?” Harry asked his faithful bird. They both knew she’d be locked up at the Dursleys despite any of Harry’s efforts to the contrary, so the teen wanted to give his owl one more chance to stretch her wings before they were both imprisoned at Private Drive.

Hedwig flew up to his shoulder and nibbled on Harry’s ear softly, indicating her desire to go to his room and watch him pack. The young wizard walked out of the Room of Requirements with his snowy owl perched on his shoulder, heading towards Gryffindor Tower to pack his trunk and think about his new school.


	3. Exploring London

Harry spent an hour packing his trunk in the dorms before he headed down to the Great Hall for a quick lunch. The teen planned to grab some food before hiding somewhere in order to avoid the publicity that would have been generated by his actions the night before. He would have stopped by the kitchen, but Dumbledore’s letter made it clear the Headmaster wanted to see Harry at lunch and the young wizard was still a student at Hogwarts so he had to obey the man.

Dumbledore himself actually waylaid Harry before he entered the Great Hall, drawing the younger male aside for a quick chat. The Headmaster felt he needed to talk to Harry before he left Hogwarts and had been waiting for the boy to pass by for several minutes before the teen had finally appeared.

“Harry, my boy, I’m glad you came to lunch today. I forgot to inform you last night that you’ll be returning to the Dursleys this summer,” Dumbledore told the young wizard. “No, no, Harry, don’t interrupt me; it’s for the greater good.

“With Voldemort back and active in the Wizarding World again, it’s quite simply not safe for you to be outside of the blood wards. I’ll see what I can do about you spending a week with the Weasleys before school starts, but I can’t promise anything,” Dumbledore continued with a grandfatherly smile. “Now off you go, my dear boy; food helps a body grow.”

Harry slipped into the Great Hall and stiffly walked towards the Gryffindor table. He refused to look around when the whispers started and instead began to look for his friends’ distinctive hair. The teen finally remembered that Ron was at St. Mungos for extra healing and Hermione was trapped in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey. The Mediwitch was taking a second look at her new scar and Harry was sure the healer would examine Ron when he came back to school as well.

The dark-haired teen sat down next to Neville, pushing down his anger at Dumbledore’s tendency to leave him flying blind in the Wizarding World and the stupidity of that world in general. Harry started to fill a plate as he nodded at Ginny and Luna, making sure to get his favorites foods before he was exiled to the Dursleys. He was careful to ignore the whispering of Dean and Lavender a few seats down as he began to eat. It wasn’t like there was much he could do about a smear campaign right now anyway.

“Hey Nev. How are you doing?” The other boy had gone with him to the Department of Mysteries and helped fight Death Eaters there, but he didn’t think that the loyal Longbottom had been injured in the process – or at least not injured more than a quick trip to Madame Pomfrey could fix.

“Doing better now than I was last night. Gran sent me a letter and we’re going to Ollivander’s for a new wand first thing after I get back from Hogwarts,” Neville replied, clearly excited at his grandmother’s evident acceptance.

“It’s great that you’re getting a new wand, Neville – it’ll be good for you to have one that chose you and not your dad.” Harry couldn’t imagine using anything other than his holly wand, especially not one that wasn’t as sensitive as his phoenix feather wand. The green-eyed boy wasn’t sure how Neville had used his father’s wand for so long or even how Ron had used his brother’s wand in first and second year. Ollivander said that the wand chose the wizard, but his friends had both been using wands that hadn’t chosen them, so he wasn’t quite sure how that whole thing worked.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. I was planning on working in the greenhouses again this summer, but I think I’ll be spending more time working with my wand than usual to get used to it. How about you , Harry?”

“No, I don’t really have any plans for this summer. I’m stuck hanging around at the Dursleys like usual. Even Snape’s classes are better than that!”

“Really?” Neville asked, finding it hard to believe that anything was worse than Snape’s classes. His boggart in third year had been Snape and the Potion’s Master was still his worst fear two years later.

“How do you think you did on your OWLs?” Seamus asked, heedlessly cutting into their private conversation.

“Pretty sure I got a Troll on Divination and History of Magic. Who knows what else I got,” Harry replied carelessly, reaching for the pumpkin juice and thinking more about what the courses would be like at K’ver than what classes his OWL results would qualify him for at Hogwarts. It wasn’t like he would be returning to the school again next year and he didn’t think K’ver cared what anyone got on the British Wizarding tests.

“So we won’t see you in Divination next year?” Dean asked, a little bit of relief seeping into his tone. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to be around the other boy, so removing a class they shared with each other would give him a measure of relief.

“No, probably not,” Harry replied with a wry little smile. He definitely wouldn’t be taking Divination next fall. He wouldn’t even be at Hogwarts! And he had no plans to take the boring course at K’ver either.

“Well, I’ll be waiting on my OWL results. I want to know what classes I qualify for!” Dean continued. He could only hope that he wouldn’t be in the same courses as Harry next year, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

Dean’s comment opened up the discussion to the rest of the table and it eventually devolved into a conversation about the questions that had been asked on the OWLs and what people thought the answers had been. By the time Parvati and Lavender got involved in the conversation, the fourth years had started badgering the fifth years about what they had been tested on.

.~.~.~.

Dumbledore watched benevolently from the head table, pleased that Harry was moving beyond Sirius’ death and conversing with other members of his House. Harry did seem a little absentminded, but that was relatively normal for the boy; he was probably just thinking fondly about the time he had spent with Sirius.

It was a pity that Harry wasn’t going to be able to attend Sirius’ Will reading, but some things must be sacrificed to advance the greater good. After all, it was for his own good that he remain at the Dursley’s this summer. Besides that, it would be easier for the older wizard to monitor the Savior of the Wizarding World if he was stuck in one place. Dumbledore himself would deal with Sirius’ effects in a couple of weeks – after he got the Wizengamot to seal the Will, of course. There was no telling what Sirius had put in his Will and Harry needed to stay under his mother’s blood wards at Private Drive. He was sure Harry would move out as soon as possible, if he could, and Dumbledore just couldn’t have that happen.

Dumbledore’s’ eyes twinkled as he nodded to McGonagall, who stood up and made an announcement to the students gathered below.

“Students, the train will be leaving soon. Please move to the carriages. Have a safe trip home.”

.~.~.~.

Harry left the Gryffindor table and was heading towards doors to the Great Hall when Luna slipped in beside him. He didn’t notice the girl until she began to speak; Harry looked in the direction of the unknown voice only to find the blonde talking.

"Hello, Harry. You should be careful of Geengyrports this summer. They don't like newbies and next few years are supposed to be especially bad for Pyrmirts and Sumsets. Oh, and always remember that Timsorrells like death above everything else," Luna said dreamily before continuing on to the carriages.

Geengyrports? Pyrmirts? Sumsets? What were those things? If Luna was talking about them, then it wasn't likely they existed in real life, but sometimes he'd swear that girl's words seemed to be some kind of code...

Harry slipped into the carriages and traveled down to the train station, thinking about what Luna had said the whole time. Geengyports don't like newbies? Timsorrells liked death? Luna could be so confusing sometimes!

Harry picked an isolated compartment in the train and settled down to think about how to escape from the Dursleys and get to Gringotts within the week for Sirius’ Will reading. The Dursleys were likely to confine him to his room again, but maybe he could sneak out past them? But then he had to get past the Order… Could he use his invisibility cloak to get off the property and then just take a bus to London? Harry thought it was possible that he could get into Diagon Ally and reach Gringotts unnoticed using his invisibility cloak. He’d have to deal with the Goblins quickly in order to get home on time, but it seemed like he could pull it off – if Moody wasn’t on guard that day. He’d have to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice, that way when Dung came on watch he could sneak out quickly.

When the Hogwarts Express arrived at Platform 9 and Three Quarters, Harry gathered his belongings and slipped off the train. Right after he passed through the barrier, he saw several members of the Order of the Phoenix talking to his relatives. Uncle Vernon didn’t look very happy to be lectured by _freaks_ – and there went Vernon’s purple angry face. The ride home was going to be horrible.

Vernon rudely pushed past the bright-haired woman and the dark man talking to him the moment Petunia pointed out Harry in the crowd. His uncle grabbed Harry roughly by the arm and pulled him towards the car, ignoring the growing frowns on the faces of the watching wizards. He didn’t care what freaks thought about his actions and all the normal people were busy enough with their own trips that they weren’t paying much attention to the people around them.

Harry carefully loaded his trunk and Hedwig’s cage in the back of Vernon’s car and slipped into the back seat with Dudley. The dark-haired boy was squished into a small part of the back seat as Dudley’s girth took up over three-fourths of the available space. His uncle quickly drove away from the train station, waiting until he was out of earshot to start tearing into Harry.

“I refuse to be spoken to like that by freaks – do you hear me, boy?” his uncle bellowed loudly before continuing in a quieter, more malicious tone, “You’re going to be spending the whole summer locked in a basement, yes you are – ”

“Vernon dear, don’t you think it would be better to pull over?” Petunia interrupted, worried at her husband’s erratic driving. “Then you can devote all your attention to disciplining the freak.”

Harry could almost see the light bulb blink on above his uncle’s head mere minutes before the man took a sharp right turn and began driving into the seedier parts of London.

“Where are we going, Vernon?” Petunia’s querulous voice asked. She didn’t like this part of town and didn’t understand why her husband was driving into such dark areas.

“Don’t worry, Pet, I know what I’m doing. The problem will be solved shortly,” Vernon answered as he continued driving deeper and deeper into the middle of the London underground.

Vernon pulled off the road near an abandoned warehouse and climbed out of the car. Harry’s uncle opened the door closest to the small wizard and jerked the boy out of the car, forcing Harry to stumble as he tried to find his balance. Vernon promptly popped the trunk of the car and carelessly tossed the teen’s trunk out so that it landed sideways on the ground.

The older male then rounded on his wide-eyed nephew and started to raise his hand, but caught sight of a person walking down the street and quickly lowered it. There was no way he was going to be anything but normal, not even in a place like this!

Thwarted, Vernon verbally tore into Harry, “Those freaks told me that your freak Godfather is dead, boy, so we don’t have to put up with your cheek now.”

“I got a promotion and we upsized to a better house in a better borough that doesn’t accept freaks, so we’ll be leaving you here. Don’t ever contact us,” Vernon preached at Harry.

As Harry’s uncle got back into the car and started it up, Petunia made sure she had the last word as they began to drive away, “I have no sister, boy. You are no relation of mine.”

Harry watched the car pull away, partially shocked at being abandoned and mildly amused that his uncle had gotten one over on Dumbledore. If his muggle uncle could do it, then so could he! The Dursleys had just made the four and a half hours he had spent on the train ride home trying to figure out how to escape them and get to Gringotts obsolete in less than half an hour! Okay, this was doable; all he needed was a new plan. Could he still catch a muggle bus from here to Gringotts? But how to explain his trunk? If he said he was just coming home from boarding school, which he was, then he just might get away with it…

Harry looked up from his thoughts and spotted Remus Lupin walking towards him. And there went another plan! He really was having bad luck with plans today; maybe he should give up on them for the day and just go with the flow? As long as he kept his goal of getting to Gringotts in mind, he figured he should be okay.

The younger wizard sat on his trunk and waited for Lupin to approach him, allowing the other male to set the tone of their meeting. Harry figured that the werewolf had been sent by Dumbledore to tail him, so when the wolf’s eyes were focused with hatred on the departing car, the dark-haired boy was surprised.

Lupin walked up to Harry and placed his hand on the teen’s shoulder to keep the boy from leaving while his attention was elsewhere and kept his eyes fixed to Vernon’s car until it turned and disappeared from his sight. Once the car was gone, the werewolf looked down at Harry and began to question him.

“Is there a reason they dropped you off here, Harry?”

“My uncle got sick of me and decided there wasn’t any room for me in their new house, Professor Lupin.”

“Call me Remus, Harry. I haven’t been your teacher for two years,” the wolf answered absentmindedly before the rest of Harry’s sentence registered. “So they just decided to abandon you in the middle of muggle gang territory?”

“I think my uncle actually just picked the closest, dirtiest, abandoned area he could find when he suddenly decided to kick me out of the car,” Harry answered. That was true as well – they‘d passed several nicer spots and even a small park that would have been much safer for the teen.

“Bloody close-minded bastard,” Remus swore under his breath before continuing in a louder tone. “I don’t have an easy way to get a hold of Dumbledore right now, so I’ll take you back to Diagon Alley with me and we’ll stay at an inn tonight. There’s an entrance to Knockturn Alley close by and we can use that to get to the rest of the Alleys.”

“There are inns in Diagon Alley?” Harry questioned, thinking of slipping away from the adult and renting a room at one of them until he could get to Gringotts.

“The only inn in Diagon Alley proper is The Leaky Cauldron, but down some of the more reputable Alleys there are several inns. If they have room, we’ll be staying at Hollyhock Fields. It’s only a couple of blocks away from both Knockturn Alley and Gringotts,” the werewolf informed his temporary charge as he carefully looked around for bystanders before quickly shrinking Harry’s trunk and handing it to the younger male.

“Can we stop by Gringotts before you contact Dumbledore?” Harry questioned Remus as they began to walk. He wanted to get to the bank before they did anything else, so he could read Sirius’ Will – just in case it mentioned a surefire way for him to avoid returning to the Dursleys this summer. It was even possible that the Goblins might know of a way for him to avoid going back to the Dursleys even if Sirius’ Will didn’t provide a way out. The second one wasn’t very likely, and he was really more interest in reading Sirius’ Will than bribing Goblins, but he had to get to Gringotts before he could do anything else.

“Why?” the older wizard said, looking at the dark-haired male suspiciously. That had been almost too innocent sounding and the werewolf couldn’t think of a good reason for Harry’s sudden desire to visit the bank.

“I’d like to see Sirius’ Will,” Harry divulged carefully. Hopefully Remus wouldn’t begrudge him a chance to read Sirius’ Will and learn about his Godfather before returning him to the Headmaster. “The Goblins invited me to a reading, but it has to occur within the next six days for the Will to be considered valid. They mentioned something about Ministry regulations.”

Remus answered the unasked question absentmindedly, thinking over what Harry had just told him. It wasn’t like it would hurt anyone for Harry to read Sirius’ Will a few days early…

“Ministry regulations state that Wills are untouchable for the first sevenday after a person’s death; if someone wants to have a Will recognized without the Wizengamot changing anything on it, rendering it invalid, or taxing it, then the Will has to be read before then. Dumbledore should have arranged a day and time for you to go to the Will reading before you left Hogwarts.”

“If he did, he never mentioned it to me,” Harry replied crossly, now understanding why the Goblins had set that ridiculous time limit. There was nothing like that in the Muggle World – wills were practically sacrosanct, even if they could be challenged with a proper reason or enough time.

“Are you sure about that Harry?” The boy had a right to read his Godfather’s Will and Dumbledore had no basis on which to deny Harry that ability.

“Yes. We talked right before lunch and he never said anything about Sirius’ Will, just that I would be going to the Dursleys again this summer. He didn’t even allow me to respond before he shooed me off to lunch in the Great Hall.”

“We’ll go to Gringotts tomorrow then, and deal with Sirius’ Will before I get a hold of Dumbledore. If he didn’t send any of us to guard you, then he can’t complain if he doesn’t know where you are for a few days.”

“If Dumbledore didn’t send you, then why were you following me?” Remus may have been a friend of his parents and his Godfather, but that was no excuse, especially since Harry didn’t know the other man very well. Okay, he knew him from third year’s private lessons on the Patronus and through Sirius, but he’d never developed a close personal relationship with the man. Yes, he trusted Remus to protect him and help him, but he’d thought that the werewolf was devoted to Dumbledore, obeying the older wizard’s ideals and orders explicitly.

Remus looked over at Harry sadly before quietly answering him as they approached a run-down coffee shop a few block away from the warehouse where Harry had been abandoned.

“I promise I’ll tell you later, Harry. We’re about to reach the Portal to Knockturn Alley, so it’s probably safer for you to stay quiet.”

Harry obeyed Remus’ advice and stayed silent as they slipped past the servers at the coffee shop and entered a back room that opened onto a small courtyard with a large blank wall along one side. The werewolf walked up to the empty wall and traced a complicated symbol on it before tapping his wand in the middle.

The center of the previously empty wall suddenly broke apart and reformed into an arch that allowed Harry to see parts of Knockturn Alley and the Plaza near the end of the street. Remus and Harry quickly walked through the doorway and into Knockturn Alley, swiftly continuing straight down the dark alley to the large plaza in front of Gringotts. They took a long left turn and followed a twisting road with several taverns, inns, and hotels to a small-looking, pale yellow house. A sign, reading Hollyhock Fields Inn, was displayed over the entrance and Remus reached out to open the door for the duo.

Harry walked in behind Remus, partially hiding in his shadow so that the plump innkeeper approaching them wouldn’t realize he was the Boy-Who-Lived. The werewolf and the innkeeper made small talk and quickly settled on the price of a room for the night, but when the small woman tried to peer behind the larger male, Remus stood a little taller and crossed his arms. The woman tsked at Remus and proprietarily tried to reach for Harry, but Remus pushed out an arm and blocked her attempt to touch the male behind him.

“The key, please, innkeeper,” Remus replied shortly. If she saw Harry, then that would be a problem – the poor boy would be mobbed and they’d never get anything done.

The werewolf promptly received the key and herded Harry up the stairs to the second floor, where he opened the door to their room. Remus was frowning as Harry took a quick peak around the room before looking back at the werewolf and settling down on one of the beds. The younger man looked at Remus expectantly as he waited for the explanation the older wizard had promised him before they entered Knockturn Alley.

Remus spent a couple of minutes examining Harry silently before he began to speak, but the topic surprised the dark-haired boy.

“Harry, why did your uncle look like he was going to hit you when he abandoned you by the warehouse?”

“Because he _was_ going to hit me,” Harry shrugged, “but he refuses to do anything that would make him look like a _freak_ ¸ so when he noticed someone in the area, he stopped immediately. Vernon’s raised his hand to me several times, so it’s not anything strange. They kept me in a cupboard, made me do the house chores, gave me hand-me-downs, and sometimes forgot to feed me  –” Harry paused, finally registering that the rumbling noise he was hearing was a growl and that it was coming from Remus.

The wolf’s growl had started with Harry’s third word and continued to grow in volume with every word after that until it reverberated around the room. Harry looked down at Remus’ clenched hands and then up at his amber eyes before carefully starting to inch away from the angry werewolf. Angry adults had always forecasted bad news for the green-eyed boy and he didn’t think this would be any different.

“I’m not going hurt you,” Remus told the other male when he saw Harry starting to move away from him and forcefully unclenched his hands. “I’m not even angry at you; I’m angry at Dumbledore and myself for leaving you in that damn house. You were Sirius’ cub; you’re my cub! I shouldn’t have let you out of our sight once your parents died!”

Harry stopped moving away from Remus and looked over at him curiously, wondering about the “cub” comment. That was a pretty intimate term and Sirius had generally called him ‘prongslet’ or ‘pup’ as his Godfather, but he had never called him ‘cub.’

The werewolf looked over at Harry, and giving a sad smile at the younger male’s curiosity, began to explain what he meant.

“Sirius and I were lovers, Harry. He was my mate, so when he became your Godfather, by default I became your Godfather as well. As your Godfather, you were like a son to him; therefore you became my cub as well and my wolf has considered you that ever since. It’s why I was following you when you left the train station – my mate had just died and there was no way that my wolf was going to let you leave my sight until he was sure you were safe.”

Remus gave a wry smile as he continued, “I couldn’t leave you alone when your uncle looked like he was going to blow his top any second, so I followed the car and saw Vernon dump you on the side of the road. I wanted you either in a safe place or with me so I could keep an eye on you; that way my wolf would be calmer as I grieve for Sirius’ loss. If you weren’t with me, then I’d be spending my time roaming the fields of England, feral with grief from the loss of my mate. I’d be going insane –”

Harry couldn’t let Remus continue believing that Sirius was dead when he seemed so upset about his mate’s death, so he interrupted the older male, “Sirius isn’t dead, Remus, he’s just trapped in the Veil.”

The werewolf looked at Harry pityingly and spoke softly to him. “Sirius is dead, Harry. He fell through the Veil and he’s gone, he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead Remus! The Veil is a prison cell – it was a part of Trichardg, an old prison in Northern Europe. There’s supposed to be some way to retrieve prisoners from the Veil, but it’s been lost for quite awhile. The only thing I found that even mentions it says that the only way to get Sirius out requires the forbidden arts in order to open the cells.”

Remus looked shocked at the news, but as his brain seemed to turn back on, a look of hope dawned over his face.

“Are you sure about that, Harry? There isn’t much known about what is hidden in the Department of Mysteries and the forbidden arts aren’t taught anywhere in Wizarding Britain. The few schools that teach them are invitation only – and there’s no way to solicit an invitation.” Yes, it was possible for the boy to learn the arts on his own, but it wasn’t likely he’d survive the first week of experimenting with them.

Harry decided to jump into it feet first – he might as well tell Remus about K’ver as well, since he had already told him about the possibility of retrieving Sirius from the Veil. He was a Gryffindor wasn’t he – full speed ahead and all that. And, well, maybe Remus would help him get to K’ver at the end of the summer if the werewolf was really as angry with Dumbledore as he sounded.

“I got invited to K’ver and I accepted,” the young wizard told Remus flatly. “I start in the fall.”

The werewolf started at Harry’s proclamation, surprised that his cub had both enough power and enough latent skill to be invited to the exclusive academy. He’d known the boy was powerful and relatively skilled since he manifested a full-blown Patronus in third year, but it generally required a whole different level of power and skill to get invited to K’ver.

“Is that why you wanted to go to Gringotts – besides the reading of Sirius’ Will? You needed to find a way to pay for your new schooling and figured your parents had left something in place to pay for Hogwarts and you wanted to change it over to K’ver instead?” Remus asked.

Now it was Harry’s turn to look shocked; he hadn’t even considered how he was going to pay for K’ver! He had never had to deal with paying for Hogwarts so the thought of paying for K’ver had never even crossed his mind. That was a huge oversight, and one that could cause a lot of trouble for him if he didn’t have enough money for school left in his Vault.

Remus chuckled at Harry’s dumb-struck expression and reached over to ruffle his hair as he asked a second question. “Did you also forget to think about how to disguise yourself so no one would recognize you?”

Harry seemed to compress inwardly at that question, mentally berating himself for forgetting that obvious fact: he was the Boy-Who-Lived! People knew what he looked like, so he’d have to find a way to disguise himself – especially his famous scar! He was a complete idiot for forgetting that, as it should have been one of the first things he considered when he decided to attend K’ver. It wasn’t like he could just waltz into a new school under the name of Harry Potter and not expect Dumbledore or Fudge to drag him back to Britain, magical contract guaranteeing death or not!

Remus interrupted Harry’s depressing train of thought, now carefully petting the younger male’s hair soothingly. It wouldn’t be good if Harry hyperventilated because it was likely his magic would go out of control – Remus knew it had happened to other wizards before, but to have it happen now would be problematic.

“It’s okay, cub, you can’t be expected to think of everything.  It’s ten now, so why don’t you go to sleep? Gringotts opens at five in the morning and we’ll probably be spending a lot of time there tomorrow, so it’s best to start early.”

Harry nodded in agreement and slipped into the bathroom to change into sleeping clothes while Remus turned down the covers on one of the two beds and settled comfortable atop the other. Harry entered the bedroom again and slipped into the open bed, quickly snuggling under the covers and falling asleep.

Remus stayed up for a few more hours after Harry went to bed, watching over his cub and thinking about what it would take to disguise the younger wizard at his new school. Before the werewolf went to bed he scribbled a list of what they needed to do tomorrow on a piece of parchment pulled from Harry’s trunk, trying to make sure he wouldn’t forget anything in the morning...


	4. Heir Apparent

Harry and Remus left for Gringotts early Monday morning to deal with Sirius’ Will. Remus had grabbed a quick breakfast-to-go from the busybody innkeeper and the two males were finishing the meal as they approached the doors to the Goblin bank.

Remus ushered Harry into Gringotts before him and guided the small teen towards an older Goblin behind a tall desk. Harry looked at the werewolf curiously and Remus answered the unasked question.

“It’s where Sirius and James went when a family member died, although I think the Goblin has changed since then…” Remus trailed off as they approached the teller. “We’re here for a Will reading.”

The Goblin looked through his spectacles and down his nose at the two wizards before pointing down a hall with one thin finger and indifferently informing them, “The Office of Wills is down that way, third door on your left. Veinick will show you the way.”

Harry and Remus quickly moved away from the desk and followed the younger Goblin as he traveled down the hallway. Veinick knocked on the large doors and opened them shortly thereafter to reveal a large desk with an old Goblin sitting behind it.

“Welcome to the Goblin Office of Wills. I am Head Goblin Spearback. What is your business at Gringotts today?”

“Goblin Head Spearback, we have come for the reading of the Will of Sirius Orion Black. This is his Godson Harry James Potter,” Remus gestured towards the smaller wizard at the end of his words and paused to wait for an answer.

“You sent me a letter yesterday,” Harry added.

“Ah, Mister Potter. Yes, we did send you that letter; I’m glad you could come so promptly,” Spearback said as he shuffled some papers and pulled Sirius’ Will from a nearby pile.

Meanwhile, Harry spotted a chair and decided to sit down on it for what appeared to be a long meeting. A sharp smile passed over Spearback’s face at the younger wizard’s actions and disappeared before he began to speak.

“This is Lord Black’s Will. You may read it if you desire, but virtually everything is left to you as his godson, with the exception of provisions for his mate Remus Lupin and any possible progeny."

Harry reached out and took the Will from Goblin’s hands and slowly opened the parchment in order to read it.

.~.~.~.

_I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound body, magic, and mostly sound mind, do hereby declare my Will, certified through the Magic of House Black and witnessed by Goblin Head Spearback and Goblin Head Blackhalberd._

_I leave everything I may own (all money, vaults, company shares and property, including but not limited to the doom-and-gloom house, the dilapidated house elf, all dangerous dark artifacts, and anything else I might have forgot) to my Godson Harry James Potter (may he live to defeat his enemy and use the Black fortune better than I ever could) with the exception of one million galleons to my Consort and mate Remus Lupin and one million galleons to any possible kids I might have left out there, providing they can prove they are actually my children by blood._

_So sworn upon my blood and magic, Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Ancient House of Black._

_Witnessed: Spearback, Head of Goblin Office of Wills_   
_Witnessed: Blackhalberd, Head of Goblin Office of Accounts_

.~.~.~.

Harry looked up at Remus, who had been reading over his shoulder, to see a shocked look on the werewolf’s face before the Goblin recaptured their attention by speaking.

“Follow Blackblood to the Office of Inheritances where Bloodburn will help you with identity verification and inheritance claiming.”

A smaller Goblin stepped opened the door and stepped inside to make a _perfunctionary_ motion indicating for the wizards to follow him. Blackblood guided them down the hall to a larger set of gold doors and ushered them inside before shutting the door behind them.

The Goblin inside the office peered at them over his spectacles and began to speak. “You are Harry James Potter and Remus Lupin?”

Both wizards answered in the affirmative, but the Goblin interrupted Remus curtly when the werewolf opened his mouth to say more. “You are here to verify your identities in an attempt to claim the Black Inheritance?”

“My Godfather gave me the vault in his Will,” Harry said stubbornly. Sirius had left him that Vault and he was going to claim it!

“Of course, Mister Potter. I am Goblin Head Bloodburn, Head of the Goblin Inheritance Office. I will need you both to shed exactly eight drops of blood on these parchments, one wizard per paper,” the Goblin replied with a sharp-looking smile as he pushed two pieces of paper forward, small gold knives sitting on top of them.

Remus promptly stepped forward and Harry followed him, watching the older wizard for cues on how to perform the identity verification. The werewolf picked up the knife sitting on his piece of parchment and made a small cut to his pointer finger before squeezing the cut over the paper until eight drops had landed on it. The parchment absorbed the blood and went red for a moment before crimson writing appeared on the page.

Remus picked the parchment up and read it, smiling sadly at what was written there before showing it to Harry.

.~.~.~.

**_ Name: _ ** _Remus Lupin   |   Mother: Josephine Mary DeWhit Lupin (deceased)   |   Father: Henry Ruat Lupin (deceased)   |   Spouse: Sirius Orion Black (unknown, declared dead)   |   Being: Werewolf   |   Sire: Fenrir Greyback   |   Mate: Sirius Orion Black (unknown, declared dead)   |   Pack: Enzo Pack of Western Europe   |   Tribe: Unaffiliated_

**_Vault Claims:  _ ** _Black Consort Vault #741   |    Lupin Personal Vault #1052_

.~.~.~.

Remus then handed his parchment to Bloodburn and pushed Harry forward to do his own verification. Bloodburn copied the parchment and looked it over carefully before authorizing several pieces of paper.

Meanwhile the younger wizard copied the werewolf’s actions and watched in fascination as blood red writing appeared on his parchment as well.

.~.~.~.

**_ Name: _ ** _Harry James Potter   |   Mother: Lily Guinevere Evans Potter (deceased)   |   Father: James Parsifal Potter (deceased)   |   Godfather: Sirius Orion Black (unknown, declared dead)   |   Guardian: Remus Lupin   |   Spouse: None   |   Being: Human_

**_Vault Claims:  _ ** _Potter Vault #103   |   Potter Heir Vault #687   |   Black Vault #112   |   Slytherin Vault #24   |   Bercilak Vault #5   |   Kyros Vault #43   |   Parsifal Vault #7   |   Taliesin Vault #10   |   Leuius Vault #44   |   Iblis Vault #69   |   Wilhelm Vault #425_

.~.~.~.

How in the world was he heir to 10 different families?! He’d never even heard of some of them, and those that he had heard about were supposed to be extinguished!

Remus took the parchment from Harry’s numb hands and took a look at it, almost going into shock himself at the list of names on the parchment. The werewolf managed to hand it to the Goblin, who quickly copied the paper and placed the original on file for Gringotts.

“All inherited Vault claims must be validated through an Inheritance Ritual to prove validity of the claim and facilitate the transfer of House or Family Magics. Some Rituals test blood, others aptitudes for specific magics; yet more test for personality traits or hidden talents. It will take approximately sixty minutes to prepare the Inheritance Chamber, so if you will wait here while Blackhalberd, Head of the Goblin Office of Accounts, and I attend to the details, it will prevent us from needing to do the verification again,” the Goblin informed the two wizards before standing and leaving his office.

The werewolf looked at his cub and guided the younger male over to a chair so he could sit down.  “Cub, why don’t you figure out what classes you want to take at K’ver instead of thinking about who you’re going to be inheriting from? We’re going to have to go shopping after this and we’ll need to know what to buy.”

Harry nodded in shocked compliance and dug his trunk out of his pocket, setting it on the floor for Remus to enlarge. Once the trunk was the proper size again, Harry set to rummaging through it in search of a piece of parchment, a quill and K’ver, Academy of the Lost Arts, while Remus settled down on the chair next to him, intently staring at the Goblin’s copy of younger wizard’s verification parchment.

“That might work…” Remus mumbled a few minutes later as he looked at the parchment.

“What might work?” Harry asked curiously, sitting down in his chair after finding his book and writing utensils.

“A way to get you a new identity,” the werewolf answered absently. “Given your blood lines, it might just be possible. The Blacks have married Slytherins in the past and Sirius had sex with a Wilhelm once, before we knew we were mates. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to assume that he had sex with her once more in order to bear an heir, but got sent to Azkaban before he knew about the child…” Remus mused aloud.

“She could have raised the child in secret on the continent, not wanting his life to be tainted by a father who went to Azkaban. I heard she died recently – and as she was always a bit of a recluse, it isn’t improbable that her family wouldn’t really know you. Of course she would have told her son about his father before her death and probably mentioned me in the process. A son who had just lost his mother would generally seek out his father if he didn’t know his mother’s side of the family, discover Sirius was in jail, and look for the second name his mother had told him. He could have heard about Sirius dying and wanted to see if he got anything in the Will, so he came to Gringotts and ran into me after Harry died attempting the Black Inheritance Ritual,” Remus continued to think out loud, but was interrupted by an alarmed Harry.

“I’m going to die?!” He had to get Sirius back first! Not that he really wanted to die in the first place, but if he was going to die, then he wanted it to be used to get Sirius back.

“No, you’re not going to die, Harry,” Remus told his cub exasperatedly. “Harry Potter would have died attempting the Black Inheritance Ritual because the Magics of House Black wouldn’t accept a half-blood or someone with such inherently light magic. The ritual would then overload your magical core and destroy it shortly before it caused you agonizing pain as your body disintegrated into dust.”

Harry paled at the werewolf’s words, but Remus kept on talking. “But you don’t have to worry about that. A few of those names on the lists of Vaults that Bloodburn handed you are pretty dark families, so if you’ve got them in your blood, then the Black Inheritance Ritual shouldn’t have a problem with you. We can disguise you as Sirius’ son with help from a couple of the stores down Knockturn Alley if we have to, but hopefully the Inheritance Ritual will take care of that for us…”

“The Inheritance Ritual is going to disguise me?” Harry questioned. How was a way to prove his bloodlines going to change how he looked?

“No, but Inheritance Rituals are exactly what they sound like: inheriting the traits and magic of a family. They often change the features of the person doing the ritual, as that person receives some of the physical traits of the family they are inheriting. You’re going to perform 10 Inheritance Rituals, so it’s highly likely that at least one of them is going to change how you look. If you change enough physically so that you don’t look like Harry Potter anymore – and if your aura changes enough magically that you no longer register as Harry Potter – then you’ll be set with a new identity.”

“I can be registered by my magical aura?”

“It’s how owls find wizards if they’re not under wards. Personal owls, well, memorize would be the best word, their owner’s magical aura and use that to find them. Wards can block auras and it’s auras that are connected to most tracking charms. In fact, the Ministry tracks auras in order to tell when people have done underage magic by identifying spells done in an area and the auras in that area. Therefore if your aura changes enough, then no one will be able to track when you use magic this summer,” the werewolf explained patiently.

So that was how Hedwig always found him! And where was Hedwig anyway?

Remus derailed Harry’s train of thought with his next statement.

“So you’re the child of Sirius Orion Black and Marriella Wilhelm, born in 1980 without Sirius’ knowledge and then raised by your mother on the continent. You found out about your father this year after your mother died and ended up coming to Britain in order to learn about him. You were invited to K’ver on the way over and ran into me at Gringotts, where you inherited the Black fortune and several other Vaults. I took you shopping for school afterwards and you decided to come with me to the Pack grounds because I was your father’s mate and current Guardian.”

“So if I’m going to become someone new, what’s my name going to be?” the younger wizard asked curiously as he looked up from the list he was compiling of the subjects at K’ver he wanted to take.

“Kiran. It means ‘ray of light’, Harry, and it was the name Lily wanted to give you before James convinced her otherwise, “Remus answered with a soft smile, remembering the argument Lily and James had about the subject when Lily found out she was pregnant.

“Hermione once told me that Keir means ‘black’. I’d like for that to be my middle name in honor of Sirius,” Harry interjected, reluctant to bring the older wizard out of what was obviously a good memory.

“Keir _would_ be something that a mother would give their child as a middle name in honor of their father if they couldn’t declare it openly,” Remus muttered as he continued to narrate his thoughts aloud. “Especially since you’re not named for a star like most Blacks.”

“Kiran Keir Wilhelm; it’s a good name. We’ll say Harry Potter died in the Black Inheritance Ritual. The Goblins don’t really care what you call yourself as long as you own up to your blood lines; Sirius once changed his name to Sir Iusess Namech Ange Black for a couple weeks,” the werewolf said with a laugh before becoming solemn once more and questioning Harry. “What subjects did you decide to take?”

Harry handed over the sheet he had been working on, allowing Remus to see the list of subjects the teen would be taking at K’ver.

.~.~.~.

_Potions   |   Transfiguration   |   Charms   |   Herbology   |   Conditioning/Weapons   |   Dark Arts   |   Defense Against the Dark Arts   |   History   |   Body Weapons   |   Passive Weapons   |   Specialized Weapons   |   Runes   |   Arithmancy   |   Wandless Magic   |   Animagus Transformations   |   Magical Body Weapons   |   Magical Passive Weapons   |   Magical Specialized Weapons   |   Summoning   |   Necromancy   |   Soul Magic   |   High Wandless Magic   |   Core Searching   |   Blood Magic_

.~.~.~.

“You don’t have Occlumency on here, Harry,” Remus commented softly after reading the list.

“I know; I refuse to have someone else in my head after the mess that was this year’s Occlumency training with Snape. I’ll go find some books on it, but I’m not going to take lessons on the subject.”

“That’s fine, Harry. I was just making a comment.” The older wizard was about to continue when he saw the door begin to open. Harry quickly tossed his things into his trunk so Remus could shrink it once more. As the younger wizard slipped the trunk into his pocket, the man with amber eyes folded the parchment in his hands and placed it in his pocket before both wizards stood and faced the Goblin standing at the now open door.

“This way,” Bloodburn said as he motioned for Harry and Remus to follow him.

The three beings travelled down the hallway, around several curves and past multiple doors before coming to a stop before another Goblin, who was standing next to a rather large set of black doors.

“I am Goblin Head Blackhalberd and this is the Inheritance Chamber. Mister Potter will leave his wand with Mister Lupin and go into the Chamber to face the Inheritance Ritual alone. If he succeeds, he will open the doors and exit the chamber. If he fails, we will go in tomorrow and retrieve his ashes,” the larger Goblin explained before opening the doors.

Harry took the knife Bloodburn presented him and walked into the empty room, turning to face Blackhalberd as the Goblin told him one last thing before shutting the dark doors.

“Place three drops of blood on the diamond in the middle of the floor and state the name of the intended family to start the Inheritance Ritual.”

Harry looked down at the floor he was standing on and noticed the intricate carvings decorating it, but had no idea what any of the swirling designs and cryptic runic symbols meant. The young wizard walked towards the center of the room and discovered the large diamond that the Goblin had been referring to. The stone was set in a beautifully intricate piece of scrollwork, channels branching off the glittering diamond and connecting to the rest of the runes and scrollwork carved across the floor.

The green-eyed wizard raised the knife to his finger and pierced it before turning his hand over and letting three drops fall on the diamond as he carefully spoke. “The Black Inheritance Ritual.”

The teen watched as his blood was absorbed into the diamond and the stone turned a black color shot through with dark red. Harry was shocked as the dark diamond turned into liquid and spread down the channels to fill random parts of the carvings on the floor. When the liquid stopped spreading it flashed a bloody red and tarnished gold color as a Grim appeared in front of Harry, along with a complex series of black, white and grey interconnected dots.

The Grim ran up the grey line that touched the floor and split into two Grims to follow the branching lines before splitting once more into four Grims so that two of the black dogs could sit on the dots while two more continued to follow the lines and split into more miniaturized Grims.  

Harry watched the black dogs race up the lines and noticed that the Grims that settled on the white dots were growling and pacing, while the dogs on the grey dots seemed to sit there impassively and the Grims on the black dots were prancing about and barking happily. They reminded him of Sirius.

By the time all the miniaturized black dogs had settled on dots, they towered over Harry and almost reached the ceiling of the Chamber. The Grims were basically split down the middle, with the half on the left pacing and growling on white dots while the right half pranced and barked on their black dots. Suddenly the dogs and the dots both flashed the same bloody red and burnished gold as earlier before the black and red liquid diamond began to glow darkly and rise out of the carvings on the floor to rush towards him.

The foreign magic rushed into Harry as the diamond coalesced back in the setting, clear and shining once more. The young wizard screamed as the new magic invaded and merged with his magic, unable to feel the pain of any physical change due to the pain of the magical changes. Harry fell down to his hands and knees, clenching his hands against the cold stone floor and trying to bite back his screams.

Harry slowly came to as the pain faded and worked his way to his feet in order to stumble to the Chamber doors. The young wizard stood there, panting for a little bit, before collecting himself and confidently pushing open the heavy black doors to step outside.

“Goblin Head Bloodburn, Goblin Head Blackhalberd, I would like to introduce you to Kiran Keir Wilhelm. Harry Potter died attempting the Black Inheritance Ritual due to incompatibility with the Magics of House Potter,” Remus told the two Goblins waiting outside the Inheritance Chamber as soon as Kiran opened the dark doors and stepped back into the hallway.

The Goblins responded with what passed for a smile among their race and spoke, “Welcome Mister Wilhelm. What can we do for you today?”

“I would like to finish the rest of the scheduled inheritance tests, Goblin Heads,” Kiran responded with a nod of respect, taking his cues from Remus’ formally phrased introduction.

“Then if you would go back in and do the Potter Inheritance Ritual, we will wait here. When you come out we will inform you of the next name and so on until you have either died or completed all of the remaining rituals,” Bloodburn informed the younger wizard.

Kiran nodded and turned back around to enter the Inheritance Chamber, completely missing the shock on Remus’ face once he registered the young man’s new appearance.

.~.~.~.

Remus watched the other wizard turn, astonished at Kiran’s new appearance. The teen had gotten a smidgen taller and gained a tiny bit more muscle definition, but Remus thought the most obvious change from the Inheritance Ritual was that Kiran’s glass has disappeared somewhere and the bluish-black ring around the edges of his eyes was on prominent display. And, Merlin, he’d inherited the worst of James and Sirius’ hair in the tangled mass that had grown to his shoulders. It was a painful reminder of everyone Remus had lost.

Well, the Magics of House Black had certainly taken exception to Harry’s less than perfect eyes, which matched with what he knew of Sirius’ family. That crazy bunch didn’t tolerate imperfection in any form, from marrying muggleborns to sympathizing with light wizards. It would make sense that the Black Magic changed Kiran’s eyes, especially since they improved other parts of his body to match their fighting style as well.

Kiran closed the doors for the Potter Inheritance Ritual and the werewolf waited impatiently for his cub to come back out. The teen reappeared rather quickly, although he was muttering about insane ancestors who were obsessed with motivations and odd apparitions of death when he left the Chamber.

The Slytherin Inheritance Ritual resulted in a taller and more muscled Kiran that stormed out of the Chamber with a glistening sword clenched in his right hand, hissing under his breath in Parseltongue. Kiran carefully handed the sword to Remus before turning to the Goblins but the werewolf’s surprised shout made him turn around again.

The sword was missing from the other wizard’s hands, and Remus was staring at his own hands in shock. How in the world did a sword just disappear? And how did Kiran end up with one anyway? He’d swear that the Inheritance Chamber was empty…

“Don’t worry about it Remus,” Kiran said dismissively, leaving the werewolf to think before turning and re-entering the Chamber.

Remus wanted to talk to Kiran, but the younger male was back behind the doors before he could stop him. The werewolf wanted to know what was going on with his cub! It wasn’t normal for people doing Inheritance Rituals to walk out looking like they’d just seen a ghost or come out with swords that disappeared into thin air!

The teen looked a little wide-eyed the next time he left the Chamber and something in the Bercilak Inheritance Ritual had obviously spooked Kiran because one of his hands was clutched to his neck as if it had just been injured. This trip into the Chamber had changed something about his eyes, merging the bright green with the dark blue seamlessly.

Remus moved over to the two Goblin Heads and began to ask them about how the Inheritance Ritual worked as Kiran went through the Kyros Inheritance Ritual. A couple minutes later the younger wizard stepped out of the doors, a little taller with an even darker edge to his eyes. Kiran shook his head sharply and interrupted the other beings’ conversation to ask for the next name – Parsifal – and returned to the Chamber.

When forty minutes had passed and Kiran still hadn’t came out of the Chamber, Remus was officially worried and began to pace in the hallway. The previous Inheritance Rituals hadn’t taken this long and the closing looks on the Goblins’ faces gave him the idea that successful Rituals almost never took more than half an hour. Remus was alternatively growling in anger and howling in grief when he began to pound on the black doors fifteen minutes later; he could not lose his cub so soon after losing Sirius! The two Goblins called guards to drag him away from entrance to the Inheritance Chamber, but as the Goblins were pulling a grieving Remus down the hallway, the doors behind them creaked open.

Remus whirled around and saw his cub clutching at one of the doors in order to remain standing. The werewolf immediately shook off the Goblins and rushed over to the wobbling boy, catching him just as he tipped away from the door. The older wizard supported Kiran with one hand as he used his wand to conjure a chair, guiding the shaking teen over to the seat once it appeared.

Kiran collapsed into the chair, panting and weakly answering Remus’ questions about his health. Yes, he was fine, just tired. No, he didn’t need to take a break. Yes, he’d done the Ritual. No, he didn’t know what happened, just that he’d passed out and woken up to someone pounding on the doors. He’d crawled over and used them to hoist himself up before leaning on the doors to push them open. And Remus had been present for everything after that, so there was no reason for Kiran to tell him about it.

The werewolf looked his cub over as he was questioning him, noticing a subtle increase in height, but very few other changes. Remus didn’t understand why it had taken so long for Kiran to do the Parsifal Inheritance Ritual when it had changed less about him than the Black Inheritance Ritual. The only explanation was that it had done something to his magic and that was cause for even more worry.

The werewolf pondered the idea as Kiran pushed up from the conjured chair and asked the Goblins for the next name. Hearing the question, Remus moved to Kiran’s side and started to speak. “You’ve already done some of the larger families; why don’t we come back tomorrow and you can finish the rest of the Inheritance Rituals then? You really should heal after the last one.”

Kiran smiled weakly back at his father’s mate and slipped into the Chamber anyway, determined to get all of the Inheritance Rituals over within as short of time as possible. He wasn’t sure that Dumbledore wouldn’t suddenly appear in order to drag him back to the Dursleys – wherever they were – in the next few moments, so he wanted to make sure he didn’t look like Harry Potter physically or magically before the Headmaster found him.

The younger wizard’s entrance and exit for the Leuius Inheritance Ritual was relatively quick to the werewolf’s relief, although Kiran exited the Chamber looking sick to his stomach. Remus was slightly worried that the boy was going to throw up, but the younger male mastered his gut reaction and moved towards the Goblins for the next name.

Right after his cub left the Chamber doors after the Taliesin Inheritance Ritual, the younger wizard came straight towards Remus and told to him something that made the werewolf burst into laughter.

“I think I just saw Luna’s Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” Kiran whispered, smiling as he moved over to the Goblins in order to ask them for the next name. Remus, despite laughing, managed to notice the more prominent blue sheen to his hair as Kiran walked away.

The Wilhelm Ritual was next and Kiran emerged looking up towards the ceiling, as if he expected something to swoop down from there and carry him away. He was also blinking a lot, as if the Inheritance Ritual had shown him something and it wasn’t quite gone yet. Remus only hoped it didn’t mean that Kiran needed glasses again – it would be so much easier if the teen never needed glasses again.

When Kiran left the Inheritance Chamber for the last time, he left it with a shaky smile and weaving movements. Evidently the Iblis Inheritance Ritual had disturbed the boy on some level and Remus went to catch his cub before Kiran fell flat on his face as he tried to reach the two Goblins.

On the way there Remus noticed that the younger wizard’s canines were longer and sharper, he was a little taller and the blue sheen in his hair was even more obvious. In addition, Remus wasn’t quite sure whether or not he’s seen that underneath Kiran’s hair his forehead was unmarked by the distinctive scar he had borne since he was a baby. He didn’t think it was possible for an Inheritance Ritual to remove scars that the best medical wizards couldn’t, but he’d never studied this type of magic before and had no idea what it could and couldn’t accomplish.

Once they reached the bank officials, Blackhalberd asked the two wizards to follow him to a meeting room. The Goblin escorted them into the room and asked them to wait there as he retrieved a colleague and the files pertaining to the inherited accounts. They were, of course, free to eat anything on the table’s tray while they waited.

.~.~.~.

When Kiran and Remus were settled in their chairs, the werewolf gave the younger man back his wand and asked him to do a spell with it. Kiran tried to use _Lumos_ and dropped the phoenix feather wand as it burned his fingers.

“That answers that question,” Remus said with satisfaction. “You no longer register as Harry Potter if your old wand won’t work for you anymore. Your aura has changed too much for the wand to be a good match now. We’ll pick you a new one up at Ollivander’s when we go shopping, so why don’t you eat something – we won’t have time to pick anything up until later today.”

While they were waiting for Blackhalberd to come back and Kiran was munching on a sandwich, Remus asked his cub to make a list of what he needed to buy for his classes that he thought they could buy in Diagon Alley. As the younger wizard began to determine what his classes would require, Remus settled back into his chair and began to catalogue the differences between Harry Potter and Kiran Wilhelm.

Kiran’s height was the most obvious thing – he was 5’9 in comparison to Harry’s meager 5’5 – but their eyes were also glaringly different. Harry’s brilliant dark green eyes with their subtle hazel flakes almost seemed plain in comparison to Kiran’s new eyes. The younger wizard’s eyes had a distinctly bluish-black border that bled into a vivid Avada Kedavra green next to his pupils. There were even tiny shining specks littered throughout his iris in place of the hazel, which made for a stunning sight.

Looking at Kiran’s face, Remus noted that, yes, the scar from Voldemort was gone and the younger wizard had higher, more prominent cheekbones. He had seen the sharper canines when Kiran had smiled earlier and heard the way the other male’s voice was slightly sweeter and more lyrical than Harry’s rather neutral voice.

Kiran’s shoulder-length hair was a deep black that gleamed a vivid dark blue when the light hit and his muscles had obviously been enhanced despite the fact that his built was thinner than before. What was even more obvious was the easy way that Kiran had moved; long strides and a casual grace that Harry had never been able to accomplish off of a broom. The fingers holding his quill were long and more fine-boned, his skin had a more golden tone to it and the legs crossed in front of the chair were definitely longer. If that was what the Rituals had done to him physically, then what had they done to him magically?

Blackhalberd re-entered the room, accompanied by another older Goblin with a small file and a procession of younger Goblins holding thick files that they deposited on the table while their elders seated themselves. Kiran slipped the paper he had been writing on into his pocket along with the quill before giving the two Goblins his full attention.

“I would like to present Dartmouth, Head of the Goblin Office of Wizarding Law. He will explain several technicalities that have arisen from your inheritances,” Blackhalberd said as he motioned to the Goblin beside him.

“It is quite simple,” Dartmouth straightened a file. “The Ministry tried you as an adult and you have now inherited the right to Lordship of three Houses, the position of Patriarch for two more Families and the title of Head of five other families, all of which make you an adult in the eyes of the law. You have the full rights of a wizard who has come of age – with one exception: you cannot assume any Lordship until you are sixteen. You would not have been able to undertake the Inheritance Rituals if you had not already been an emancipated minor due to the trial last summer with the Ministry, so the Ministry has no say in your future investiture as Lord when you turn sixteen in five and a half weeks.

“The Lordship Houses all have votes in the Wizengamot and it is possible to lock those votes as absent until such a time as you would like to participate once more in the wizarding government; something Gringotts can initiate for you if you sign this paper – for a small fee of course,” Dartmouth continued carefully, pushing a piece of paper and a quill across the table towards Kiran.

Kiran looked over the agreement and signed it before pushing it back towards the Goblins. Dartmouth quickly picked up the paper and slipped it into his file before leaving the room.

“Mister Lupin, it would be easiest to deal with your vault first. The Black Consort Vault currently contains an even one million galleons, deposited there by Sirius Black before his death. This is the key to the vault,” the other Goblin told the werewolf before turning his attention to the younger wizard.

“Now, Mister Wilhelm, your accounts have a cumulative total of nearly 5.4 million galleons with an interest of 0.05% per month coming in from various investments, stocks, and Gringotts policies, although  a decent percentage of your interest is taken to pay for dealing with your account. That leaves you with about 24.5 thousand galleons to spend monthly and means you’ll earn 294 thousand galleons the year after you turn sixteen – assuming, of course, that you don’t spend any of the principle and spend only the monthly interest,” Blackhalberd explained carefully. Wizards knew nothing about banking and the Goblins were aiming to keep it that way.

Seeing Kiran’s confusion, the Goblin pulled out a clear card and another knife, telling Kiran to let fall a single drop of blood on the card. The young wizard did as Blackhalberd told him and all three beings watched as the card turned blood red.

“This is Gringotts Blood Card. It works the same way as a muggle debit card, connected directly to your vaults. Tap it on the receipt and the appropriate amount will be transferred out of your holdings. If the card turns clear, you need to stop spending for the day if you don’t want to spend more than your daily interest. Of course you can still carry galleons, but the card makes it easier for our clients to purchase pricier objects without worrying about someone stealing their gold. The card is keyed to both your blood and your magical signature, so it won’t work for anyone else and it can be summoned back if it is stolen. In addition, it serves as a key to all of your vaults so that you don’t have to carry around eleven keys and worry about losing one of them,” the Goblin said as he picked the card up and handed it to the human. Kiran slipped the card into his pocket before returning his attention to Blackhalberd.

“We can take you down to access your vaults now, but you _will_ need to come back to Gringotts after your birthday, where we will be able to let you access your vaults completely. You currently have access to the money and moveable objects within the Vaults, but your stock, investments, votes, and properties cannot be accessed until you are sixteen years old. Gringotts will continue to manage your wealth until you return and we will have statements ready for you to review at that time,” Blackhalberd continued, expecting the wizards to travel down the vaults.

Kiran remembered Remus’ comment from the night before and decided to speak up before they headed down to the vaults. “I need to transfer my tuition from Hogwarts to K’ver.”

“That is an easy thing to do, Mister Wilhelm. Will you be needing an anti-theft wallet for the markets in K’ver’s native realm as well?”

“That would be helpful, yes,” Kiran answered absently, shocked that the school he was going to was in a different realm and the book from the academy hadn’t mentioned anything about it. Something like that was important enough that it should have been mentioned first thing, but evidently K’ver expected people to know that the school was in a different realm.

“If you would like to go look at your vaults now, the wallet will be ready by the time you are finished,” Blackhalberd said as he stood up. “Mercikill will be your guide.”

A smaller Goblin entered the room and guided the two wizards out, leading them towards a plush-looking cart and motioning for them to get in. The card zoomed down the tracks, taking Kiran and Remus around several twists and turns, but always moving downward, deeper into the depths of the bank.

Kiran swore he saw the wings of dragons around a corner, along with several long tails and glowing licks of flame, but the cart zipped by before he could identify what type of dragon. The cart finally slowed down as it approached the Bercilak Vault #5.

The vault held the expected gold, along with four books, a sword, two shields, and a trunk full of gemstones. The young wizard put the first few items into the trunk and slowly dragged the trunk outside of the vault, where Remus shrunk it so Kiran could place it in the large trunk sitting in the cart beside Remus. The werewolf answered his unasked question softly as they travelled the short distance to the next vault.

“I bought it from the Goblin so you could have someplace to put everything from the vaults. It’s a gift, Kiran; you’re going to accept it,” Remus declared firmly before continuing. “I’ve labeled the compartments so we remember what came from which vault.”

Kiran nodded in comprehension before leaving the cart to enter the Parsifal Vault, where he found a trunk full of thick tomes, and yet more weapons. Kiran wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do with a cracked sword and yet another shield, but he took them with him anyway.

The Taliesin Vault was next and held fewer galleons than some of the other Vaults, but did contain a disorderly pile of books that spilled out of an oddly colored trunk in addition to a case full of staves.

The top of the trunk was already partially open, so Kiran opened it completely and began to place the books that had spilled onto the floor back into the trunk, only taking a cursorily look at the small pile of fabric already inside. Kiran reached up and shut the trunk when he was done, watching in surprise as it began to shrink as soon as the latch clicked shut. The young wizard shrugged and picked up the bright trunk to put into his pocket before moving over to the case containing staves.

Kiran spent several minutes trying to figure out how to shrink that case, eventually resting a hand on a dark knot of wood by accident. The case suddenly folded up and shrunk to a more manageable size; Kiran picked it up and moved towards the vault door before he stumbled across a small trunk. He shrank the second trunk as well and exited Vault #10 to place his new items into the appropriate compartment as the three beings travelled to the next Vault.

The next Vault was Slytherin’s and Kiran exited it with his hands behind his back. “Tom took everything but the floor. And these,” the teen said as he wiggled a set of sharp daggers in one hand and two thin books in the other. “Evidently he didn’t like the subject matter.” Which was really rather ironic, as one of the books was on Slytherin’s bloodline and the other looked like it might be written in Parseltongue.

Kiran could only be thankful that Tom hadn’t done an Inheritance test. If Harry could inherit all of these Vaults, then Merlin only knew what Voldemort could have inherited; the violent maniac definitely didn’t need any extra help in his bid to take over the Wizarding World.

Vault #43 from the Kyros furnished Kiran with five books and a case full of long weapons, half of which the young wizard couldn’t identify. Kiran recognized the tridents and the spears, but he had no clue what the long shafts with axes on top of them were, nor what the sleek pieces of wood with long blades on them were called. The teen shrank the weapon cases anyway and decided he’d figure out what they were once he had time. Kiran quickly left the vault and placed his loot into the trunk before continuing on to the next Vault in the corridor.

“Do you think my ancestors were pack rats?” Kiran asked as he dragged another trunk, this one with six books balanced on top, from the Leuius Vault. He couldn’t figure out how to shrink the things and there was no way he wanted to open them considering what he’d seen in that Inheritance Ritual. “They certainly left behind enough stuff.”

The next stop, the Iblis Vault, resulted in Kiran gaining an interesting black case full of disorganized books, twelve of which were scattered throughout the room. Kiran went around picking up the books so he could put them in the case, but ended up carrying one of the books out of the room by the tips of his fingers. The tome was wider than his hand and seemed to be covered in black-dyed human skin; it gave him the shivers.

The teen was even more careful about touching things in that Vault when he returned; taking extra precautions not to make full contract with a large, skeleton-shaped key, a weird stick with a pinecone on top and a sword that seemed wreathed in shadow. There was also something that looked like a mini chest of drawers, a trunk stuffed to the brim with daggers and a case full of scythes that Kiran decided to remove from the Vault. The teen gave a heavy sigh once everything from the Vault was in the cart; this was taking far too long.

Kiran took his first look at the Potter Vault and stopped dead in his tracks; the opening of Vault # 103 was overflowing with gold and had weird weapons coiled up in a case. The weapons – well, he assumed they were weapons because they had blades and spiky orbs at the end – were in the same kind of cases that he’d seen before, so the young wizard closed and shrank it, sticking the thirteen books he found close by into one of the nearby bookcases before closing it as well. There were another few containers filled with swords, an odd jewelry box, and yet another trunk filled with what looked to be even more weapons. Kiran eventually found a way to pick up the cases and slipped back out the doors to the vault, thankfully dumping the miniaturized cases into the trunk next to Remus as he climbed back into the cart.

The next Vault on the list was the Black Vault #112, where the young wizard removed a dark bookcase full of tomes, a trunk full of random objects, and a case full of some kind of weird weapons. Some of them almost looked like claws… Kiran packed everything up from the Black Vault and brought it out to the cart, barely having time to deposit the items before they arrived at Vault #425.

“And I thought Hermione was bad.” Kiran shook his head as he carried out another armload of shrunken bookcases from the Wilhelm Vault. “I think I just inherited a library from a bunch of obsessively curious Ravenclaws.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at the comment, but the teen simply darted back into the Wilhelm Vault and dragged a trunk to sit at the entrance to the Vault. The werewolf watched as Kiran gently tossed golden armbands, pieces of jewelry, chunks of rock, a brass ring in a small transparent cube, and a case filled with small rune-carved stones into the trunk from inside the Vault.

When all of the loose objects had been placed in the trunk, Kiran pushed the lid closed with one hand and located the switch that would shrink it. Once the trunk was smaller, the wizard added it to the other miniaturized trunks in his arms before dumping the whole load into the trunk beside Remus.

The next trip Kiran grinned as he held up shrunken cases filled with large axes, hammers, and maces. “Anger management?”

Remus tried to hold back his amusement at the question, but the teen’s over-innocent face had the werewolf laughing almost immediately.

The next stop was his school vault and Kiran reached down to scoop up a large amount of galleons into a sack once he was inside Vault #687. As soon as the teen was back in the cart, Mercikill guided the vehicle back to the bank’s ground floor.

Blackhalberd was waiting for them there, immediately handing another gold knife and the anti-theft wallet to Kiran with directions to shed a drop of blood on it. Kiran let a crimson droplet fall onto the wallet, which immediately glowed in reaction. Kiran opened the wallet once it returned to its normal color and slipped his Gringotts Blood Card into one of the compartmentalized pouches; the galleons from his school vault went into another pouch.

Meanwhile Remus had closed and shrunk the trunk, which contained everything from the Vaults before joining his cub to talk to the Goblins.

The two wizards and the Goblin exchanged pleasantries as they walked to Gringotts lobby, where Blackhalberd bid them goodbye and returned to his office. Kiran pulled the list he had made earlier from his pocket and unfolded it before handing it to Remus.

The werewolf looked it over as he walked across the Gringotts lobby, mentally determining the order they needed visit the shops in Diagon Alley so they could leave tomorrow morning for the Pack lands.

.~.~.~.

**_ Potions _ **   
_**Books:** Advanced Potion Making*, Magical Drafts and Potions*, The Compendium of Potions, 1995_   
_**Supplies:** A complete set of ingredients, 5 cauldrons, 12 stirrers, vials_

_** Transfiguration ** _   
_**Books:** Intermediate Transfiguration*, Guide to Advanced Transfiguration*, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration*, Transfiguration and Conjuration, A Selection of Useful Transfiguration Spells_   
_**Supplies:** A cage of mice, a jar of pebbles, a stack of wood, several random objects, several random household objects, several pieces of quartz, several pieces of jade, several pieces of ivory, several pieces of obsidian_

_**Charms** _   
_**Books:** Achievements in Charming*, Intermediate Charms, Compendium of Charms, Dueling Charms, Offensive Charms, Defensive Charms, Complex, Difficult, and Powerful Charms_   
_**Supplies:** A cage of mice, a jar of pebbles, a jar of feathers, a stack of parchment, several random objects, several random household objects, a small bladed weapon_

_** Herbology ** _   
_**Books:** The Herbal Compendium (1992), One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi*_   
_**Supplies:** Clippers, gloves, collection kit, planting kit_

_** DADA ** _   
_**Books:** A Guide to Defense Against Dark Arts, A Guide to Offense Against Dark Arts, A Guide to Dueling, A Guide to Dangerous Creatures, Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts*, A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions*, Protection: Shielding Spells_   
_**Supplies:** Armor_

** _Runes_ **   
_**Books:** Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms*, Ancient Runes Translation*, Runic Dictionary, Intermediate Runes, Uses of Runes_   
_**Supplies:** A jar of pebbles, a stack of parchment, a stack of amulets, a jar of snake venom, a jar of bird blood, a jar of black ink, a jar of blood from a magical creature_

** _Arithmancy_ **   
_**Books:** Numerology and Grammatica*, New Theory of Numerology*, Arithmancy Charts, Arithmancy Applications, Calculations in Arithmancy_   
_**Supplies:** A stack of large parchment, a set of Arithmancy tools_

.~.~.~.

It was 4:30 in the afternoon by the time Kiran and Remus left Gringotts, discussing the items on the list and what else the younger male needed for K’ver as they ventured down Diagon Alley.

The first stop was _Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_ * for Kiran’s new wand. The two entered the shop and started when Ollivander appeared from among his shelves.

“Remus Lupin, 12.5 inches, alder with a dragon heartstring core. And Kiran Wilhelm, I don’t think we’ve met. You are here for a wand, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your wand arm?”

“My right,” Kiran said and watched as the magical tape measure began to measure the dimensions of his hand and then his body before Ollivander ordered it to stop.

The wandmaker came out of the shop’s dusty isles holding several wand boxes and handed the first one to Kiran. “Oak and dragon heartstring, 13 inches.”

The wand burst into flames the moment it touched Kiran’s hand. The next wand Ollivander handed him, birch and unicorn hair, 12.5 inches, crumbled into ash the moment he touched it and the third wand, yew and phoenix feather, 13.5 inches, literally dissolved in his hands.

“Curious, curious,” Ollivander commented thoughtfully as he handed the young wizard a fourth wand, holly and unicorn hair, 12 inches. After that wand had exploded, the old wizard voiced a question.

“Did you recently inherit new Magics?”

“Does it matter?” Kiran answered, reluctant to confirm the idea but curious what his inheritance had to do with getting a new wand.

“You’re not compatible with the lighter cores and woods. I believe I have something in the back that might work well, but we’ll have to see,” Ollivander said as he ventured back into the musty shelving in search of a different wand.

“An older creation of mine, rowan and thestral hair, 11.5 inches. Why don’t you give it a wave and see what happens?” the oldest wizard said as he returned and handed a shorter wand to Kiran.

The young wizard carefully reached out and accepted the wand, hoping this wand wouldn’t be destroyed as well. He waved it and a black mist seeped out, twirling in circles around the wand before fading into the air.

“Not a perfect match, but it will do for now. You’ll come back after you’ve turned sixteen, yes?”

“I’ll be back in the Alley after I turn sixteen and we’ll stop by then,” Kiran confirmed.

“Good. 7 galleons Mr. Wilhelm,” the wandmaker said with a slow smile.

The young wizard paid and tucked his wand into his pocket, realizing for the first time that Dudley’s old clothes actually fit him now. Meanwhile the werewolf was carefully asking about tracking charms on Kiran’s wand.

“He’s an adult wizard, so there’s no need for any charms on his wand,” was Ollivander’s calm answer.

Remus smiled at the wandmaker in return and ushered his cub out of the shop, guiding him past _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ * towards _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions*_.

“I don’t think you’ll have time for flying at K’ver, Kiran. Besides, we’ve got to get you some clothes that fit before anything else. Those rags you’re wearing won’t give a very good impression to anyone and now that you’ll never be returning to your relatives, you can buy some nicer clothes,” the werewolf said as he opened the door to _Madam Malkin’s_ * for his cub.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” the proprietress’ voice said from behind several stacks of fabric.

Madame Malkin appeared shortly thereafter, floating several bolts of cloth behind her with magic. “What can I do for you gentlemen today?”

“We’d like two sets of wardrobes, a basic one for me and an extended one for him,” Remus said gesturing to the younger wizard. “He’ll need all the usual basics, in formal and informal styles, in addition to several sets of clothes meant for sparing and at least eight sets that are meant to be worn under armor. They’ll need to be enchanted with charms to repair small rips and tears, anti-dust charms, self-cleaning charms, resizing charms, growth charms, protection charms, impervious charms, and any other spells that you think would be useful. We’ll leave the styles, colors, and cuts up to you, but a single set of clothing for him before we leave the store would be greatly appreciated. Everything else can wait until late, but we’d like to collect the orders before you close tonight; we’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning. We will, of course, be willing to pay extra for the inconvenience.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Mr. Lupin. If you’d both follow me to the fitting rooms, my assistant will take your measurements, Mr. Lupin, and begin on your clothes while I deal with the wardrobe of your companion,” Madame Malkin answered, motioning for them to follow her into a back room.

Kiran and Remus followed the proprietress into the fitting rooms and stood on the stools they found there. Madame Malkin and her blonde assistant activated their magical tape measures and set them to measuring the wizards as the two witches began to summon swatches and bolts of fabric from across the shop.

The two seamstresses held up the pieces of cloth next to the wizards and rapidly began to pick and chose appropriate fabrics for their various wardrobes. About ten minutes later Madame Malkin informed Remus and Kiran that they were done for now and only needed to come back right before closing at 8:30 pm. Before the two males could leave, the proprietress handed a package to Kiran and ushered her assistant and the werewolf out of the room so the younger wizard could change in peace.

Kiran took off his old clothes and dumped them in a pile before putting on the new boxers, dark grey slacks, white undershirt, and dark blue button down shirt. The robe was a dark green with subtly patterned Celtic designs in dark blue and black along the edges. The young heir quickly slipped the robe on and picked up his old clothes, using his new wand to shrink them so they would fit in the pockets of his robe.

Kiran exited the backroom to find Remus waiting for him by the door. The two wizards left the wardrobe store and proceeded down the street to a shoe store after Kiran pointed out how weird his ratty trainers looked peeking out from underneath his new robes.

Remus and his cub were greeted by an older wizard once they entered the shoe store. The owner sat them down on a couple of chairs and began to measure their feet as he conversed with the werewolf.

“What kind of shoes are you sirs looking for today?”

“I’ll need two pairs of all-purpose battle boots, and he’ll need two sets of workout shoes, four pairs of basic boots, two sets all-purpose battle boots, and a pair of formal shoes, all of them spelled with whatever comes with the deluxe package,” the werewolf answered.

The proprietor nodded and focused the rest of his attention on determining the size and shape of the two wizards’ feet. The oldest male moved away from his customers soon after that and told them that their footwear would be done right before the store closed at 8:00 pm. Remus and Kiran left the shoe store and walked diagonally across the street to a small armor store hidden away from the main Alley.

The werewolf and his cub entered the small shop and immediately came face-to-face with an older man who scowled at them in greeting. “What do you want?”

“We’d like three sets of your best, flexible, light armor, two sets of your best battle armor, and six sets of your best under-armor, all made out of whatever you think will be most effective,” Remus told the proprietor.

“I’m not wasting any of my best materials or my time if you can’t pay,” the wrinkled man stated sharply.

“I can pay for half of it right now,” Kiran said confidently as he came forward.

“You pay me 1,000 galleons now and the rest when you come to pick it up tonight. I’ll measure you after you pay,” the armorer grunted as he pushed a pay slip towards the young man.

Kiran reached into his wallet and grabbed his Gringotts Blood Card and tapped it on the sheet, unknowingly blocking the armorer from seeing what kind of card the youngest wizard was paying with. The dark-haired human put away his card and pushed the slip back towards the older man, who picked it up and peered at it for a few moments before grunting and motioning Kiran to step up on a stool.

The armorer made a few quick measurements and told his two customers to come back at 9:00 pm. Kiran and Remus nodded in response and quickly left the store to enter the Alley again.

The two wizards passed _Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour_ * and the store where Harry had bought his telescope for Hogwarts’ Astronomy class* before they entered a little side store that advertised trunks on its windows.

Remus approached the salesman as soon as they entered the store and Kiran slowly followed behind him, looking at all of the trunks on display in the shop. As the werewolf and the sales assistant talked, Kiran took a closer look at something that caught his attention: a “Shopping Satchel” that was enchanted to connect to other trunks so that any new items could be safely sent to the appropriate trunks and the wizard could not be robbed of his new purchases. It had a blood-binding option, like his wallet from Gringotts, in addition to a pocket that could hold odd items like wallets and other things without having them disappear into the trunks. It couldn’t be cut, pierced, squished or broken open and the blood-binding included a “return to owner” charm. Kiran looked it over and walked back to his father’s mate, who was patiently waiting for the other man to finish scribbling down what the werewolf wanted to buy.

.~.~.~.

“So that’s one ‘Clothier’s Wardrobe,’ four ‘Traveling Bookcases,’ five ‘Subject Specialties,’ three ‘Armory Armoires,’ one ‘Penultimate Potions’ and one ‘Ritual Segregation,’ all with the personal and space expansion options?” the salesman said, wanting to verify the large order. He’d earn a huge commission on this! Well, if the ragged looking man and his younger companion could actually pay for it all…

“Yes, that should –” Remus began to say when Kiran interrupted him.

“I’d also like one of those ‘Shopping Satchels,’ with all of the options,” the younger man said as he pulled out a red card, surprising the sales assistant who thought that the other man’s companion would be paying for the order.

“Your total comes to 1,178 galleons,” the salesman said as he pushed a bill across the table towards Kiran and watched in shock as the young man negligently tapped his Gringotts Card on the bill before putting the red card back into his wallet.

“We _are_ in a hurry,” Remus prodded the sales assistant as the man stared blankly at his cub, snapping the other man out of his shock and resulting in a mad scramble to get everything the two men had asked for. There was no way he was going to disappoint someone who had a Gringotts Card! Although he didn’t think he’d ever seen a red one before…

“Why don’t you gentlemen come to the stockroom and decide on what trunks you’d like while we get the young man set up with his satchel,” the salesman offered diffidently, gesturing to a small door off to the side.

Remus and Kiran nodded in acceptance and followed the other wizard into the backroom, where the two clients wandered the room and chose the physical features of the trunks they preferred, while the salesman retrieved a “Shopping Satchel” for Kiran and returned to his guests.

“You’ll need to –” the sales assistant began to say as he gave the satchel and a small knife to Kiran, but stopped in shock when the young man casually nicked one of his fingers and let a drop of blood fall on the “Shopping Satchel.” That kind of attitude wasn’t normal in the Wizarding World. All the purebloods that had enough money to have Gringotts Cards usually waited for blood-binding directions and always thought twice before they drew their own blood, but the kid had done it almost without thinking about it.

Kiran’s flat stare and Remus’ cough brought the sales assistant back to his senses and he continued to explain how the bag worked, showing the two wizards how to connect the file-like pockets of the satchel to different trunks, easily connecting all of the trunks the two had just bought to the new satchel.

The assistant ignored Remus’ actions as the werewolf slipped a dark mahogany trunk out of his pocket and into the younger man’s satchel. It wasn’t one of theirs, so the salesman didn’t care what his client what doing with personal belongings. What the patrons did with the trunks after he sold them wasn’t any business of his, so he just smiled and shrunk the wizards’ other purchases.

The salesman handed the trunks to the younger wizard with a smile, but the other male just nodded at him and slipped the cases into his satchel. The two patrons looked at each other for a moment before the salesman found the older man thanking him as the two males left the trunk store.

.~.~.~.

Remus and Kiran left _Tremaine’s Trunks_ promptly at 6:15 and hurried next door to _Frenzy’s Furniture_. The werewolf told his cub to go take a look around and pick a bedroom set, a living room set, a kitchen set, and a library set for his room at K’ver from the layouts displayed across the store. The younger wizard wandered off into the store while Remus approached a salesman and ordered a deluxe camping tent for himself and Kiran. The older wizard knew they’d need them when they went to the Pack tomorrow; most werewolves didn’t build permanent buildings on their Pack grounds preferring to use bespelled tents instead.

Remus paid for the tent and shrunk it before guiding the salesman over to where he could smell his cub wandering around. He’d noticed that Kiran’s scent was sharp with the smell of lightning, cold rain and the soft musk of death, a direct contrast to the gentle scent of growing things, copper, and newly-turned earth that Harry had given off. It was good that Kiran wouldn’t be recognized by scent either, but Remus would miss Harry and James’ nearly identical scent of newly-turned earth and the way Harry’s scent reminded him of the way Lily always smelled of sunlight and stargazers.

Kiran turned at their approach and told the salesman that he wanted Bedroom Set 12, Living Room Set 8, Kitchen Set 3, and Library Set 5. The man simply nodded and guided them back towards the sales desk where Kiran paid for his purchases and received a set of small cubes from the sales assistant. Kiran stashed the cubes in his satchel as he walked out of the store with his father’s mate.

“Now we can go shopping for your school stuff,” Remus told his cub with a smile as they left _Frenzy’s Furniture_ , more relaxed now that Kiran had everything he needed to set up house at K’ver. His cub would not want for anything!

Kiran quickly moved to _Flourish and Blott’s_ and entered the bookstore, eager to buy books that might help him free Sirius from the Veil. Remus followed behind at a decent pace, intending to help his cub buy good reference books for each class. Remus had spent several years learning from books when no one would hire him after he graduated from Hogwarts and was very well versed in what books would be worth buying and which ones were virtually useless.

Kiran was selecting books from the Potions section of the bookstore when Remus rejoined him, pulling more books than the werewolf remembered being on the list the human had shown him earlier. He remembered seeing Snape reading a couple of the books in Kiran’s pile when he was back in Hogwarts, particularly Moste Potente Potions.

“Is there a reason why you’ve suddenly developed a desire to learn more about potions, Kiran?

The younger wizard looked over his shoulder at his guardian. “I know basically nothing about the subject, so I figured any help I could get would be nice. It wasn’t like Snape was an inspiring teacher.”

Kiran turned back to the books and reached for a book called Potions Made Easy!, but Remus stilled his hand and pulled out a different book instead. “That book’s basically useless, Kiran. Why don’t you pick out your school books and anything that sounds interesting while I pick up some extra reference books? That way you won’t be buying useless books and you can still pick out interesting books,” Remus suggested as he pulled out three more books and a place marker, adding them to the pile of shrunken books in Kiran’s basket.

The werewolf grabbed a few more books from the Potions section and slipped them into his cub’s basket as the teen picked up Asiatic Anti-Venoms* curiously and put it into his basket as well.

They moved onto the transfiguration section next, where Kiran made sure to get his school books and Remus picked up some other information books, although the younger wizard also chose to put Air to Water: Conjuring and Animagus Transformation into his basket.

Charms was next on the list and Remus picked up some older looking books with misspelled titles while Kiran got his school books and decided to buy Rising on the Wind: Levitation Charms in the hope of learning how to fly, even if he didn’t really think it was possible.

The Herbology Section was relatively diverse and Kiran picked up a book he remembered Neville reading in fourth year, Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean, and the crazy sounding Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, in addition to his school books and the extra books Remus had chosen.

Kiran didn’t find any really interesting books in the DADA Section and just picked out his school books, leaving the other books to be evaluated under Remus’ experienced eye.

Runes was next and Kiran quickly picked out his school books before taking out a copy of almost every book in the section that mentioned runes and runic objects, hoping to find a reference to the Veil in one of them. Remus noted Portals: Traveling by Runes, Runes in Prison Structures, and Legendary Runic Objects in the basket with several other rune books when he added his own selection of more practical books.

Kiran left the selection of any extra Arithmancy books to Remus and just searched out his school books when they entered that section. The two left that area with several place markers and three other books; Kiran wondered what exactly the place markers were used for.

When Kiran and Remus reached the Miscellaneous Section, Remus picked out a couple of Healing books, and several books about Occlumency in addition to some of the more interesting and obscure books he’d read over the years. Kiran decided on a few more books, including several on wandless magic that he remembered being listed on the class’ page in K’ver, Academy of the Lost Arts.

The two wizards brought their basket up to the sales desk, where Remus exchanged the place marks for several series of books. So that was what they were for! It made a lot more sense to have just one object that could stand in for a series of books, especially when it looked like some of those collections contained over 20 books.

The girl at desk spent a few minutes determining the total cost of the books the werewolf and his cub had selected before speaking, “Your total comes to 4,897 galleons, sir.”

The younger wizard looked a little surprised at the price, but Remus just shrugged when Kiran looked at him. Kiran gave his own shrug back and used his Gringotts Blood Card to pay the amount before being handed several packages full of shrunken books. The dark-haired male put them in the pocket of his satchel that was connected to one of the library trunks and closed the bag again as he followed Remus out of _Flourish and Blott’s_ * into the shop next door named _Wrigley’s Writing_.

Kiran saw a few things he’d like to buy as he walked towards the back of the store and the employee working there, most particularly a set of runic pens made from numerous materials and created just for doing rune work. He remembered Hermione commenting about the difficulty of finding good runic pens last year and the way that differed materials created different effects in Runes.

The younger wizard looked at the list of school supplies he had gotten back from Remus, gave a shrug, and decided to just go for it.

As soon as Remus had gotten the salesman’s attention, Kiran began to talk, “I’d like twelve stacks of standard parchment, five stacks of large parchment, 15 jars of black ink, three sets of those small, multicolored bottles of ink over there, that large set of runic pens, three sets of standard quills, five sets of ink pens, two sets of Arithmancy tools, and 40 notebooks, please.”

The brown-haired wizard looked at Kiran, wondering what in the world his cub was up to, but the younger wizard just gave a cheeky smile and comment in response.

“I thought I’d follow your example and make sure I had enough of everything. Better safe than sorry, right? Besides, I’m pretty sure that K’ver will give even more homework than Hogwarts.”

Remus chuckled at the human’s words while his inner wolf gave a pleased little rumble about his cub relaxing in their presence and learning from them.

The employee looked at them wide-eyed, but went to gather up the items from around the store anyway. He totaled up the price at the counter towards the front of the shop where the two clients were waiting.

“Your total today is 345 galleons,” the other male said as he placed a bill on the counter, surprised to see the younger male tap it with a Gringotts Card as soon as the salesman withdrew his hand. The sales assistant looked the bill over for a moment before handing over the supplies to his two patrons. The younger male quickly dropped them into one of the pockets in his satchel as the two wizards left the shop and headed to the _Apothecary_ * to get potions ingredients.

Kiran’s order for three complete sets of ingredients didn’t surprise Remus this time, but the request for a small vial of all of the common blood, venom, and other liquids found in the shop did.

The younger wizard saw the confused look on his guardian’s face and explained while the proprietor put together his order. The liquids could be used in Runes and he was curious about how different rune materials acted with each other, so he intended on experimenting this summer.

The proprietor handed over Kiran’s order and Kiran put it into the potions trunk through his satchel. The werewolf and his cub travelled next door to the cauldron shop*, where the human proceeded to order two of all of the more common cauldrons in the shop, 25 stirrers, 10 self-stirrers, and 200 vials, wanting to practice his potion making skills this summer and still have enough left over for the school year. Kiran knew he’d probably ruin the first set of cauldrons as he relearned how to do potions, and the second set was for his time at K’ver, where he figured he’d need several cauldrons in different sizes and materials. The young heir didn’t even look at the expensive gold cauldrons or the rare cauldron made from the shell of a Fire Crab. Inheriting something like that was one thing; buying it was quite another matter.

_Henrietta Spinster’s Household Supplies_ was next on the list, as Kiran needed to get quite a few random household objects for his charms and transfiguration classes. While his cub wandered around picking up objects, Remus made sure to get cleaning supplies for Kiran’s room at K’ver, just in case the other male ran into something that wouldn’t come out with spells. Kiran quickly paid and put his purchases away before heading over to _Lenel’s Mad House_.

The store was aptly named, looking like a hurricane had decimated the place on the inside, but Kiran spotted a boxed set of small shiny orbs, a key ring with 14 keys on it, a big sparkly orb, and three empty glass orbs and added them to the host of random objects he had gotten for school and the small bladed weapon required for charms. He studiously avoided a big misty orb that gave him the creeps and made Remus growl as he walked towards the front of the shop to pay.

After completing his purchases at _Lenel’s Mad House_ , the two wizards hurried back towards _Shoemaucer’s Shoes_ for their final shoe fitting. It only took a few moments for the craftsman to finish up and Kiran paid the man for his work as he slipped on the new shoes and rushed out of the shop, trying to make it to another store before going to _Madame Malkin’s_ *.

Thankfully, _The Gracious Garden_ was nearby and Kiran was able to quickly buy his pebbles, wood, clippers, gloves, three collection kits and two planting kits before darting over to where Remus was waiting for him inside _Madame Malkin’s_ *. Remus had picked up a set of wraps from a nearby café and handed one to Kiran as he walked in the door. The younger wizard ate it quickly as they were once more guided into the backroom.

The final clothes fitting was surprisingly simple to Kiran, as the proprietress simply had him put on a set of clothes and a robe before casting a spell at him and the clothing next to him that tailored the clothes more closely to his frame and fixed some small discrepancies in the design. The blonde assistant promptly brought her employer a chair that the proprietress gratefully sat down on as Kiran changed back into his normal clothes and the assistant totaled up their purchases to 1,053 galleons.

Kiran quickly paid for the clothes with his Gringotts Card and slipped them into his bag, attempting to make it to a new store before he had to go visit the grouchy armorer from earlier.

The young heir walked into _Eeylops' Owl Emporium*_ to buy the mice and feathers he needed for his classes at school and ended up leaving the store with 13 cages of mice, two jars of feathers, eight bags of owl treats and a set of Eastern Screech Owls, complete with perch. He knew he couldn’t use Hedwig anymore – he’d miss her, she was his first friend – but maybe Remus could. If she’d listen to him, then at least he’d still be able to see her, but if she didn’t come to him, then she’d probably be safe with either Ron or Hermione. Either way, he needed a new owl because Hedwig was too noticeable and the two fluffy bundles had been adorable. They weren’t the same color; one was a red morph and the other a grey morph, but they seemed close enough to be siblings as they huddled together in their fake tree perch.

Kiran ducked into _The Magical Menagerie*_ to see if they had anything he needed, but Remus had to quickly pull him out of the store due to the headache that began to develop the moment the younger wizard walked into the store and all of the snakes in it began to hiss loudly.

The werewolf guided his cub back towards _Duking and Dueling Armor_ for their final appointment of the night, where the proprietor had Kiran try on the armor before tweaking a few things and sending the two customers back out into the alley after paying 714 more galleons for the finished products.

Kiran and Remus left the small store and headed for another small store about three shops down that was advertised as _Jameson’s Jewels_. The young heir looked down at his list before speaking to the girl behind the cases filled with bright gemstones.

“I’ll need 30 pieces of quartz, jade, obsidian and ivory, all about the size of a small stone, in addition to 10 pieces of whatever other common gems you have in the shop, the same size as the others.” The young wizard began to peruse the cases, finding he was drawn to a cracked and flawed raw white diamond the size of his fist and three flawed black diamonds that were half again smaller than the first diamond. Kiran also liked the look of two more polished rubies, a square-cut emerald, a dark cushion-cut sapphire, an oval topaz and a raw peridot of various sizes.

“We don’t carry ivory, sir, but the rest of your total comes to 1043 galleons,” the young girl told him as she handed him the bill. Kiran gave it a quick look-over before tapping it with his Gringotts Card and asking the girl where he could buy ivory. The sales assistant motioned to a small shop down the road labeled _Mercer’s Materials_ , so the two wizards began to travel in that direction as Kiran stored the gemstones in his bag.

The small shop was filled with all sorts of interesting woods, bones, and metals, but Kiran and Remus simply walked up to a salesman and began to list what they needed to purchase.

“I’d like 30 pieces of ivory, about the size of a small stone, 10 pieces of every common bone, rock, metal, and wood in the store, all about the same size as the ivory, 20 of those chains behind you and 30 of the matching mounts,” Kiran told the other male, thinking about the using some of the gemstones he had just bought as pendants once he or Remus cast some protective spells on them. Maybe it was possible to carve runes on gemstones? He’d have to look into that…

The man looked a little shocked, but went about filling the order quickly, telling the two patrons that their total was 792 galleons. The youngest wizard once more paid with his Gringotts Blood Card and put his purchases into the satchel resting on his shoulder.

Their last stop was a store next door that was named _Arniel’s Ancient Artifacts_ , where Kiran planned to check if he had missed anything interesting he might need for school. The young heir ended up buying a stack of premade protection amulets, four stacks of blank amulets intended for later runic inscription, and two Pensieves. Kiran planned to take out some of the more obvious memories that could identify him as Harry Potter and keep them in one of the Pensieves, which he would then firmly lock in one of his trunks. The other was just insurance – one never knew when a Pensieve could be useful and everyone seemed to think they were hard to find.

Once Remus and Kiran were done shopping for the day, they trudged wearily back to Hollyhock Fields and collapsed in their beds. Kiran had shrugged off his bag before he had fallen onto his bed and desperately wanted to fall asleep, but something Remus had said earlier was bothering him.

“Remus, what did you mean when you said that I wouldn’t be going back to the Dursleys?”

Remus turned on his side and looked at his cub before hesitantly beginning to speak.

“I was planning on taking you with me to the Pack this summer because that’s what I’d do with Sirius child, especially if we’d just met. I wouldn’t be able to let him out of my sight after losing both Sirius and Harry. I thought –”

“That sounds great, Remus,” Kiran interrupted with a soft smile as he snuggled into his covers. “Where’s the Pack at?”

“The muggles call it Ardennes, but the Wizarding World has always called it Arduenna Silva. It’s located near the French border and has the SambreRiver nearby. The place is filled with old mountains that are covered in trees…”

.~.~.~.

The werewolf trailed off as he watched Kiran fall asleep, thinking about what they had accomplished today and where they’d be going tomorrow. It certainly had been a shock for Kiran to inherit from ten families, but the effect had well been worth it: Kiran Wilhelm was no longer physically or magically identifiable as Harry Potter and now had enough money to buy whatever he wanted without looking at the price. The younger wizard has spent a quite a bit of money earlier that day and his card was still blood red, which meant he hadn’t even spent all of his monthly interest!

Remus gave a guilty little smile at the sleeping boy, knowing he had ordered a lot of clothes for Kiran, but he figured over half of them would be destroyed for random reasons at K’ver. Besides it satisfied his wolf to provide for Kiran in this way, even if he wasn’t paying for everything. Wolves protected and provided for their cubs and there was no way he was sending _his_ cub to such a dangerous school with providing him with the best equipment and resources possible.

This summer would be difficult enough for the young wizard as he adapted to living with a werewolf Pack, but Remus hoped he’d adjust quickly. Even if he didn’t, the older wizard would make sure none of the other werewolves hurt Kiran in Challenges. If he had to, the werewolf would declare himself Kiran’s Champion and deal with the problems himself.

Remus would protect his cub or die trying.


	5. Structural Dynamics

Remus shook Kiran’s shoulder early Monday morning; they had a long trip ahead of them to reach his Pack and they needed to start moving. The central gathering place for the Enzo Pack was in Belgium, so the two of them had to get a portkey to the continent before Remus could apparate them near the clearing. In addition, the Pack kept wards up around their lands to prevent people from attacking them easily, so it wasn’t possible to apparate directly to the camp, but it was possible to walk there after apparating nearby. The only bad part about that was that it was quite a walk from the edge of the wards to the normal meeting place.

Kiran slowly opened his eyes and peaked up at Remus from under his covers, softly mumbling a morning greeting to the werewolf. The older wizard told him to get dressed and pack; Remus would be waiting downstairs with breakfast when Kiran was finished.

Changing clothes and making sure everything was in his bag didn’t take Kiran long, so he clattered down the staircase to find his guardian sitting at a table filled with food. The two quietly conversed as they ate, Remus telling Kiran about the Arduenna Silva and its rocky mountains and tall forests filled with boars, wolves, lynxes, foxes and all types of birds.

When the two had finished eating, the werewolf headed for the proprietress to pay for the food and room. Kiran followed behind him, protesting at Remus paying when Kiran knew he had all that money just lying there in his vaults. There was no reason for Remus to pay! The older wizard ignored his cub and paid the bill before guiding his younger companion over towards the door to the inn and out into the Alley. 

“There’s an international portkey leaving at 9:30 for Belgium out of Jenkin’s Journeys that only costs 12 galleons per person. It’ll drop us off in the outskirts of Wizarding Belgium and I’ll apparate us to the edge of the Pack wards. We’ll walk from there to the central clearing,” Remus told his curious cub as they approached the shop in question.

The two wizards entered the shop and paid the man behind the desk for their travel accommodations before he directed them to a room filled with several other people and a rope stretched across the floor. Remus and Kiran looked over the people already in the room as they chose a wall to lean against until their portkey left, while those already present in the room looked over the newcomers before returning to their previous actions.

The call for the Belgium portkey came quickly and the two wizards joined the other people in the room in reaching for the rope. Kiran felt the portkey hook behind his navel as it activated, his stomach clenching in anxiety.

They arrived in a small room almost identical to the room they had just left, Kiran swallowing hard and miraculously managing to avoid falling on either his face or his arse by grabbing Remus’ arm. A man quickly entered the small room and ushered its occupants out of the area towards the door to the shop, evidently in a hurry to get rid of his customers. 

Remus calmly guided his cub towards a hedge filled with multicolored flowers and carefully picked two red flowers in full bloom. The werewolf waved his wand over them with a soft saying before giving one of the flowers to his godson.

“Whenever you come to Wizarding Bruxelles, pick a red flower and wave your wand over it in a figure eight as you say ‘the lion in unity.’ Then tap the flower before putting it in your pocket and walk through the hedge. That’ll allow you access to the Wizarding parts of Belgium, but we really don’t have time to explore today.” Remus immediately guided his charge through the large hedge into Muggle Bruxelles and gripped Kiran’s arm to apparate them to the edge of Enzo Pack lands. They both landed on their feet, which surprised Kiran because he had always landed on anything but his feet in the past. Maybe one of his new families was good at wizarding travel or something, even if it did seem like a pretty ridiculous skill…

The tall oaks and elms interspersed with various evergreens were beautiful and the two wizards could hear birdsong lilting through the air. Remus guided his cub forward, slowly pointing out the wildlife of the area so Kiran would know what to avoid. They spotted a few normal lynxes and a small, red fox, but the werewolf was careful to point out the tracks of a wild Erymanth Boar and an Ice Lyeonx, warning Kiran to stay away from the two dangerous creatures. Erymanth Boars were large, rage driven creatures with long, serrated tusks and a desire for human blood, while Ice Lyeonx were a magical cross between the lynx and the fox that were exceedingly territorial about their dens and hunting grounds. The werewolf also took the time to find a pair of wolf tracks and a pair of werewolf tracks in order to point out the difference between the two to his cub, warning the boy to hide somewhere safe when the full moon came in order to make sure no one infected him. 

The two wizards began to approach a clearing in the trees when Remus suddenly stopped and pushed Kiran behind him before scenting the wind to check his conclusion. Remus quickly stripped off his robe and pushed it at Kiran, telling him to put it in his bag and stay quiet when they entered the clearing before moving forward once more, this time at a more cautious pace.

Kiran stayed close to his guardian as they entered a clearing ringed with werewolves, a large, feral-looking werewolf with long hair rising from the rocks at the center of the clearing. Remus’ subtle head tilt and abrupt words identified the man, but did nothing to make Kiran feel more comfortable.

“Fenrir Greyback,” Remus bit out, barely successful in suppressing the growl and bared teeth that wanted to emerge at seeing the man who had made him a werewolf.

“Look, it’s the traitor. You hoping a gift will get you back in my good graces, Remus? You know how likely that is,” Fenrir said with a rude laugh as he prowled around the two newcomers. “That’s a really nice gift; you let me keep him and maybe I’ll think about not killing you.” Fenrir gave a nasty smile as he reached out to grab Kiran’s hair.

Remus blocked the hand, a barely-there growl vibrating softly in his chest. This abomination of a werewolf was not going to touch his cub if Lupin had anything to say on the matter – and he was determined to have a say.

“I am Alpha!” Fenrir snarled in reaction, pissed that someone was trying to deny the werewolf what he wanted to claim. It didn’t help that the wolf refusing him was one of the children he’d personally bitten and should have submitted to his Alpha without question.

“And that is my cub,” Remus growled back, desperately trying to remain calm. If a fight broke out, he didn’t know what would happen to Kiran and he wasn’t exactly eager to find out; either way it was better than letting the Alpha near his cub. “You will not touch him.”

Fenrir ignored the other wolf’s words and darted a hand out too fast for Remus to block. The rough claws clamped down on Kiran’s ass as Greyback stared at the other wolf in clear challenge. Kiran froze at the feeling; there was no way he was going to get involved in any type of werewolf confrontation when one of the wolves looked as crazy as Fenrir. Standing between two werewolves that looked like they wanted to kill each other wasn’t safe and he wanted to keep on living, thank you very much. He still had to rescue Sirius!

It was easy to hear the younger wolf’s growl echoing around the clearing as the tension between the two alphas ratcheted up to new heights and slowly infected the wolves around them. An expectant silence spread across the clearing and Fenrir smirked, harshly squeezing the hand he had on Kiran’s arse, his long claws digging into the teen and drawing blood. Kiran had been squirming slightly at the pressure from standing between two upset alphas, but Fenrir’s crude action had once more frozen him in place, inundating him with images of becoming a werewolf. His higher brain functions knew that Fenrir had to be transformed in order to infect him, but that didn’t stop his gut from contracting at the possibility of becoming a werewolf. He loved Remus, but there was no way he wanted to deal with the Pack in any shape or form without his Guardian. Especially if Greyback was Alpha, as the psychopath seemed a little too interested in him for his own health.

Seeing Fenrir grope his cub was the last straw for Remus and he leapt towards Fenrir, rage allowing his inner wolf full control. Lupin would die before he would let the Alpha violate his cub; he would have never even thought about approaching Pack lands if he’d known Fenrir was the current Alpha. 

Kiran was tossed to the side as Fenrir launched himself at Remus in retaliation. The older werewolf had been purposely provoking the human sympathizer since the moment Lupin had entered the clearing in order to goad him into a fight. The young human was a tasty little morsel, but Fenrir had been aiming to fight and kill Lupin for over three years now.

The young heir pulled himself to his feet from and backed towards a nearby rock, hoping that the stone would at least cover his back for a little bit if the older werewolf won the battle. Kiran was under no illusions; if Fenrir won the fight, then the brute would try to take him against his will, but Kiran was going to make him pay dearly for the pleasure. He wasn’t going down without a fight!

The two werewolves fought on the ground, trading quick punches and splattering blood everywhere. Kiran could only see brief flashes of the fight, but he didn’t think that werewolf claws were supposed to be that long or that sharp. And was that fur? Weren’t werewolves only able to transform around the full moon? Most of the time it looked like Fenrir was winning the fight and Kiran worried for his guardian’s life as he tried to remember any spells that might be able to make a werewolf pause. He would grieve for Remus, of that he was sure, but he doubted he could do anything to change the outcome of the fight while the two werewolves were still engaged. He might be able to stop Fenrir from murdering Remus, but only if the older werewolf paused to gloat before he delivered the killing blow.

When the dust finally settled and the two werewolves were completely visible, it looked like Fenrir was winning as he straddled the other wolf and used his body weight to aid him in strangling Remus. The older wolf leaned down to whisper something in Remus’ ear with a nasty smirk, but his words evidently enraged Remus so much that his clawed hands paused in their mad scramble against the Alpha’s choke hold before suddenly darting into motion.

Remus drove his hand towards Fenrir’s chest and simultaneously lunged for Fenrir’s throat, teeth barred and completely ignoring the sudden lack of air. The Alpha tried to push the other wolf’s head back down, but Remus stubbornly clamped down and refused to be moved. Both Fenrir and Remus suddenly went still, the former’s hands still locked around the latter’s throat while Remus had his teeth buried in Greyback’s neck and one of his hands trapped between the two wolves.

All around the clearing werewolves held their breath, waiting to see who was going to be declared Pack Alpha. Kiran pulled out his wand and backed up further in preparation, hoping that Remus had won. If Greyback had won, then he’d be raped before dinner, but he’d make the Alpha pay for the privilege in blood before he was subdued.

Fenrir’s body began to move and Kiran prepared to curse the wolf – okay, he didn’t think it would really do any good, but he was going to avenge Remus’ death and go down fighting – when the young wizard noticed that the movements were rather awkward. Maybe Remus actually had won…

Kiran’s guardian moved slowly as he detached his teeth from Fenrir’s throat to display a bleeding jugular and crushed windpipe before the new Alpha used his free hand to push Greyback off to the side. The previously hidden hand was revealed as it exited the other werewolf’s chest with a slick sound, Fenrir’s bloody heart clearly clenched in Remus’ fist. There was no telling exactly what had killed Greyback, but there was no mistaking that the man was dead and Remus was the new Pack Alpha.

Remus climbed to his feet, bared teeth stained a bloody crimson and Greyback’s lifeblood dripping from his hands as he tossed the crushed heart to the side. His eyes were a fiery amber as he searched the clearing for Kiran. Once the wolf had located his cub, he coupled an abrupt summoning motion with a low growl, clearly demanding that Kiran come closer.

The teen slowly walked forward – it’s just Remus, a bloody Remus, but still Remus – until he was within reaching distance of the feral wolf; Lupin immediately reached out and grabbed his arm, using the connection to drag Kiran behind him. 

Kiran could hear Remus snarling at the surrounding werewolves from where he was trapped between the werewolf’s bloody back and the cold mountain rock. The teen was still in a mild state of shock – calm, gentle Remus had killed a man famous for his cruelty – but he was determined to deal with everything one step at a time. And the first step was avoiding setting his guardian off again; Kiran wasn’t very comfortable, but Remus seemed quite determined to keep the teen safely behind him and the teen wasn’t going to fight him on the subject when the former DADA professor was virtually drenched in blood.

“The cub is mine.” That had to be Remus; no-one else called him cub.

“Yours,” a ragged chorus replied; Kiran couldn’t see them, but he guessed it was from the wolves who had watched the leadership battle.

The next question came hard on the heels of the wolves’ answer, ground out in a low voice as the new Alpha stared across the clearing. “Challenge?” 

This time his only response was a bunch of whimpers as several wolves purposely lowered themselves closer to the ground and averted their eyes, while others bared their stomachs or tipped their heads to the side.

“Alpha,” Lupin growled, the werewolf side of him recognizing the submissive posturing and the lack of a Pack Alpha.

“Alpha,” was the clear reply from all the werewolves in the clearing.

By that time most of the wolves that ringed the clearing were whimpered lowly and subtly backing further away, although a few of them slowly parted to let an older woman through. The female werewolf carefully approached the bristling Alpha, sure of her position in the Pack but cautious of a werewolf focused solely on the defense of his cub. 

“I don’t think anyone will challenge you for the position, Alpha,” the woman stated wryly as she stopped right before entering arms’ reach of the new Pack leader.

The feral growl that rumbled out of Remus’ chest obviously shocked the female werewolf, as she immediately started and took a step back from the male. Slowly pulling her hair over her right shoulder, she kneeled and tilted her head to the right, displaying the bare flesh of her neck in submission. She murmured, “Your cub,” and made a subtle motion with her wrist towards one of the other wolves.

Another female accompanied a young male walked within arms’ reach of the older woman and stopped before moving their hair to their right side, kneeling, and baring their necks. Slowly the other wolves in the clearing showed their allegiance to their new Alpha by kneeling and displaying their necks, but Remus was still growling softly.

“Child, can you calm him?” the older woman asked softly, gaining Remus’ attention in the process. He growled at her, but refused to move from his position.

Kiran tried to look over Remus’ shoulder earlier, but the werewolf had simply pushed the teen further behind him. The young wizard eventually resorted to eavesdropping on his guardian’s conversation, even if it didn’t make much sense. The female voice startled him and raised the volume of Remus’ growl, but the younger wizard decided to give her suggestion a try. He wasn’t sure exactly why she wanted him to do it, but he reached out to touch a visible part of Remus’ back any way. Kiran made sure he wasn’t touching any of the wounds or the blood soaked fabric, but the simple touch didn’t do anything to calm down the werewolf.

Talking was the next step, but what exactly was he supposed to say? ‘Remus, you know that guy who made you a werewolf, well, you just ripped out his throat. I don’t think anyone’s going to challenge you after that.’ Yeah, that was a good idea; remind him of the problem that started this whole fiasco. Oh well, he’d just wing it – it wasn’t like he could do too much damage trying to calm someone down.

“Remus? Remus, I’m fine. I’m not hurt; they’re not going to hurt me.”

The werewolf’s only response was to strengthen his growl and glare at the Pack surrounding their position.

Kiran left his hand on Remus’ back, but quieted in order to think. Okay, that was a no-go. Next option. If Remus wasn’t answering and the normally friendly man had just torn out another man’s heart, then how likely was it that the wolf was in control? Kiran decided to try it; it wasn’t like there was much he could lose by making the attempt – Remus’ wolf liked him.

“Moony, your cub’s fine. Sirius’ child is fine, and we’re going to get your mate back. We’re going to get him back, Moony, but first I need you to calm down.”

Remus relaxed a little, but his eyes were still tracking the gathering of wolves, analyzing them for weaknesses.

Kiran wracked his brain; what was it that ‘Mione had said about pack structure third year when Snape assigned the werewolf essay? And that tidbit about grief earlier this year when she had been trying to help him? Wasn’t it something about werewolves placing a lot of importance on the raising of cubs and something about the grieving mind becoming dedicated to preserving what was still living... 

“Moony, you’re Alpha and no one is going to try and take your cub. I’m staying with you, Moony; you don’t have to worry about that. I know you’ll protect me; I’m safe with you, you won’t let anyone touch me. You killed Fenrir, the threat’s dead, it’s okay to relax now,” Kiran said softly as he cautiously petted Remus’ bloody back, careful to avoid the deep scratches and dark bruises while touching bare flesh or torn fabric.

Remus’ posture finally relaxed and the wolf retreated from his eyes to leave the older wizard looking out at the entirety of the Enzo Pack of Western Europe barring their necks to him in submission. Shocked, Remus looked behind him to where he could smell and feel Kiran standing and received a smile coupled with a cheerful comment.

“You killed Fenrir, Remus. I don’t think he’ll be getting up this time.”

Remus looked over to where Kiran indicated and saw the corpse of Fenrir Greyback with a torn windpipe and a crushed heart on his chest. Well, Fenrir definitely wouldn’t be coming back from that; no matter how good werewolf healing was, it couldn’t re-grow a heart or bring people back from the dead.

The Alpha looked out over his new Pack, his attention captured by the dark-haired female that had tried to approach him earlier. She stood slowly, watching him carefully for any reaction, and introduced herself.

“Alpha, I am Syanth, alpha 3, healer and Shaman to the Enzo Pack of Western Europe, member of the Ivaine Tribe. May I tend to your wounds?”

Remus considered the condition of his body and, realizing that the copper taste in his mouth was blood, nodded his consent to the female wolf. “That’ll be fine, Syanth, but the cub will be staying with me.”

“Of course, Alpha,” Syanth demurred, her hands deftly reaching out to support Remus’ weight as his body wavered slightly as he stepped away from the rock. Kiran slipped up besides Remus on the other side to add his support.

Syanth brought the two over to a large tent and sat them down on the tables there before moving over to the chests and drawers lining the sides of the tent. She rummaged around for a few moments before puling out several salves, unguents and potions, along with several rolls of bandages and quite a few packages of herbs.

The female wolf came back towards her Alpha and carefully pointed her wand at him, quickly and carefully cleaning Remus of blood before removing the ripped shirt and beginning to apply the ointments to his wounds and wrap them in bandages. The healer set a series of potions to help his internal injuries near Remus, which the werewolf slowly sniffed then swallowed as Syanth continued to manually heal the Alpha.

Kiran watched curiously, eventually asking why she didn’t just use her wand to heal Remus. The female werewolf gave a sad smile and answered her Alpha’s cub.

“I’m not the Healer of the Pack, I just know enough to be a healer until we find a new one. Our last Healer died a few years ago and we were hoping to attract a new one at the Spring Gathering last February, but Fenrir won the Challenge for Alpha and his policies dissuaded anyone from joining the Pack, much less a proper Healer.”

Remus looked up sharply at the comment about Fenrir’s policies and began to question his Shaman. “What exactly do you mean when you say that Fenrir’s policies dissuaded wolves from joining the Pack?”

“He couldn’t change the Pack order, but he did make it so that any lower level wolf was subject to anything that a superior demanded, no matter what it was. Fenrir ruined our relationship with the Otis Pack of Central Europe when he allowed his Tribe to fight them for fun, almost dedicated the whole Pack to fighting for the British Dark Lord, and destroyed any relationship with the Veela across the border when he declared open season on them,” Syanth told the younger werewolf bitterly.

“He called back all of the Tribes and planned to tell them the new rules today, but you showed up and killed him,” she continued. “If you plan to change any of the ordinances, then you’re going to have to tell them tomorrow before they leave for home.”

“I’ll definitely be changing a few things,” Remus said as a low growl rumbled in his chest, right before he got distracted by the way Kiran kept shifting. Pack politics were important, but his cub would always rank first when it came to commanding his attention.

Kiran had been fine when he had first sat down, but after Syanth had answered his question, the younger male had tried to settle more firmly on the table only to find that putting a lot of pressure on his arse hurt. 

Remus scented for what was wrong with Kiran and smelled blood, but was confused about where the blood was coming from as his cub didn’t have any visible injuries. Syanth asked the teen to get up so she could examine him and that’s when Remus spotted blood on the table where Kiran had been sitting. 

Syanth located the blood right after her Alpha and quickly handed Kiran a jar of salve before pointing him towards a small screened-off area in the corner of the tent. Kiran disappeared behind the screen and tended to the bloody scratches Fenrir had given him, reappearing shortly afterwards with a blush. The healer finished dealing with her Alpha’s wounds as Kiran returned to the table and sat down once more, refusing to look the two werewolves in the eyes. 

Remus left Kiran to get over his embarrassment and stood up cautiously to test the limits of his movements. The Alpha was pleased at the mobility he retained despite the multitude of wounds and bandages scattered across his form. He didn’t know how the wolves would react to him now that he was the Pack Alpha and needed to be able to respond quickly to any threat. The werewolves might have accepted him as Pack Alpha, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be challenging, just that they wouldn’t give him an official Challenge after what he did to Fenrir. Remus didn’t want Kiran to get caught up in werewolf politics, so he needed to get his cub somewhere safe while he began to deal with the problems Greyback had left behind.

The werewolf Alpha grabbed his cub’s arm and tugged Kiran to his feet before guiding the human out of the tent and towards an open space in the next clearing where he asked the younger wizard to dig out the tent and set it up while the werewolf raised temporary wards around the area.

Kiran set the tent down on the ground and tapped it with his wand, watching curiously as it unfolded and stabilized. It was pretty big with two extensions off the main body and everything was a subtle grey with yellow accents. The younger wizard opened the tent and waited by the entrance for Remus to finish, watching the werewolf make intricate wand movements as he walked around the clearing.

When the Alpha was finished, he approached the tent and began to ward it as well, determined to keep his cub safe when the full moon came. Remus finally ushered Kiran into the tent, where the younger wizard was stopped in his tracks at the luxurious interior of the tent. It was a lot better than the tent the Weasleys had used at the Quidditch World Cup; for one, the inside had a color theme instead of a mishmash of random furniture and fabrics.

Everything inside the tent was a subtle hue of grey, topaz, or amber, with scattered gold, yellow and black accents. It looked similar to how Kiran imagined the Hufflepuff common room would be decorated, well, minus the shimmering grey and honey amber baubles that were scattered all over the entrance room. Those looked a little too fragile to be found in a room filled with rowdy students…

Remus guided his cub towards one of the extensions on the side of the tent and showed the younger wizard the large second common room and nice bedroom located there. 

The Alpha was quick to let Kiran get settled in, only staying in his bedroom long enough to give the teen a quick rundown. “These are your rooms. If you don’t like something, feel free to change it; I won’t mind. The matching set of rooms in the other extension is mine and there’s a big kitchen in the main part of the tent, along with a bathroom and dining room. Feel free to explore while I go get changed.”

The younger wizard took a look around the common room and dropped his satchel onto one of the open chairs before reentering the main part of the tent to talk to Remus. The werewolf was in the kitchen, dressed in a new shirt and pants as he prepared lunch for the two of them.

Remus looked up when he heard Kiran enter the room and was about to begin speaking when the werewolf heard someone calling for him faintly from outside the clearing. His wards would keep people out of the clearing itself, so the Alpha stopped working on lunch and ventured out of the tent to deal with their visitors as Kiran watched the other wizard’s actions with confusion. The younger man trailed after his Guardian, but stopped when his father’s mate poked his head back through the entrance to the tent and began to speak.

“I have to go deal with the Pack, so why don’t you eat and explore the books from the Vaults? I’ll be back later tonight, so stay in the tent, okay?”

Kiran nodded in response and headed back towards the kitchen, hearing one of the visiting werewolves outside talking to Remus as he walked.

“So, first things first: we’re exempt from the next Spring Gathering due to the leadership change, but we’ll have to make a strong showing at the one after that if we want to improve our reputation, much less recruit…”


	6. Organizational Chaos

Kiran finished putting together the sandwiches Remus had started and decided to retreat to his suite in order to look through his inheritance. He took his sandwich and a piece of fruit with him to his living room, where the teen picked up his satchel and sat down on a loveseat with the bag beside him.

The wizard munched on the apple as he pulled the cage with his owls in it out of his satchel, along with the items he need to feed them, and set them up in a corner. Kiran spent a few moments settling the birds down and arranging their perch, water dish, and food before going back to the settee. The next things to come out of his bag were the trunks, which he placed beside him on the couch so he could consider what he wanted to organize first. He was pretty sure that the Clothier’s Wardrobe had charms cast on it that organized whatever clothing was put into it, so he had no reason to deal with that trunk and put it off to the side with his Hogwarts trunk.

Kiran leaned back into the loveseat as he finished his sandwich and thought about what he should organize first. He’d probably be better off sorting what he had into piles before he tried to organize the new trunks, although he didn’t think he’d have much to do in the Potions cabinet…

He’d do the books last, as that seemed like it would take the longest and he had to unpack everything from the Gringotts trunk anyway. Kiran finished his sandwich and set the plate aside as he rose to his feet and began to set the trunks around the room, careful to keep the Gringotts trunk and his satchel near his feet for ease of access. The young heir then proceeded to open the trunk from Gringotts and sort his Vaults’ contents into their proper receptacles; he kept the books separate so he could deal with them later. 

Piles of books surrounded Kiran by the time he was finished, although he still couldn’t figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with a shining mirror, a battered hamper, an old horn, that weird pinecone and ivy stick from the Iblis Vault or the key that was bigger than his hand. Why in the world did his ancestors collect these things?

Despite the dubious worth of the aforementioned items, the teen put all the random bits and pieces into a trunk he mentally labelled miscellaneous and advanced to unpacking the books from Flourish and Blotts. He planned to sort them into piles according to subject before shelving them, but first he had to figure exactly what books he owned.

.~.~.~.

Four hours later Kiran collapsed on one of the couches in his sitting room and looked out at the piles of books surrounding him. The young wizard was pretty sure he owned over a thousand books and he hadn’t even bought all of his school books yet, or any reference books on the forgotten arts. He was going to have a huge library – no wonder Remus told him to deal with this stuff! 

But what exactly was he supposed to do with half of these books? He had enough information on dragons to run a sanctuary, but had absolutely no desire to do so, and some of those books from the Vaults were sincerely creepy. Why in the world would he want to read a book titled Infiltration and Murder or The Methodology of Torture? Much less a series of 45 books that contained all of the Black’s information on curses and   
Dark Arts or the huge, black Encyclopedia Demonica that looked like it might be bound with human skin and dyed a light-absorbing black? 

He may have inherited books he really didn’t want, but at least he also inherited some interesting volumes like the Parsifal’s Healing for the Gifted, which happened to contain a nifty little spell about full body healing. The worn and annotated copy of Animagus Instructions that he’d found in the Potter Vault, Kiran was sure his father had used it to become an animagus in the past and the teen was determined to do the same before school started. He was pretty sure he’d be finished by then, or at least he hoped he would be with help from the two books he had on the subject. Maybe he wouldn’t need to take the Animagus class at K’ver?

The black-haired boy wasn’t quite sure what to do with the huge series of books on Charms that the Wilhelm Vault had contained, but he was sure some of them would useful at K’ver – particularly the seventeen volumes of Defensive Charms – but he had no clue if he’d ever use the books on cosmetic charms. They would make a good door stop if he piled them on top of each other and Kiran was seriously entertaining the idea. He wouldn’t turn them into kindling at least, although he had enjoyed burning Lockhart’s books after that year was over… 

Kiran was ecstatic that he had found a grouping of books on Runes he thought he could use to free Sirius, particularly the eight volumes of Ancient Uses of Runes and the books titled Runic Portals: Traveling to Other Realms and Runes Lost in Time that came from the Wilhelm Vault. The young heir had carefully placed those books on the top of the pile of runic texts, which was already pretty big. As soon as he finished dealing with the rest of his things, Kiran was going to start working his way through the pile as fast as possible. He had decided to put it off only after he’d picked up one of the books and gotten lost reading for half an hour. The teen knew he’d spend a lot of time reading the books instead of finishing organizing and Kiran didn’t want to weave through piles of books every time he tried to leave his room. He was sure he’d trip over something and topple at least one pile of books, meaning he’d have to reorganize again and that would take forever; the books would simply have to wait.

Kiran pulled himself off the couch and began to shift his books from the floor to the shelves of the travelling bookcases, occasionally taking breaks to flip through interesting books. The dark-haired male made sure to avoid taking a closer look at Baltseros: The Blood of Bacchus as it had came from the Iblis Vault and there was no way he ever wanted to see anything that had to do with the perversely debauched forms he had seen in that Inheritance Ritual. Kiran also avoided opening Kyros Blood Lords; he didn’t want to anything to do with the bloody buildings he had witnessed in that Inheritance Ritual either. Those edifices had risen out of pools of dark red on the floor of the Chamber and had dripped with the lifeblood of thousands. He really didn’t want to know what would result in a Inheritance Ritual filling a room with blood.

A couple of the other Inheritance Rituals had been creepy, but the Leuius Family didn’t really have any books about themselves and Kiran didn’t want to deal with demons, so he wasn’t going to crack the Iblis books. Losing his head and licking blood off his fingers in the Bercilak Inheritance Ritual had been weird, so he’d wait until he had more information about Blood Magic before he opened any books from that Vault. On the other hand, everything else was relatively safe-looking and therefore fair game.

The Healer’s Helpmate and Inventive Dueling Spells were both interesting, especially the way that the second book recommended using tricky, low-powered spells to trip up opponents rather than the obsession most wizards had with using flashy and obviously overpowered spells. It was in direct contrast to the raw power and physical manipulation that both Voldemort and Dumbledore had used at the Ministry but it made sense to Kiran; smaller spells would take less energy and the wizard could last longer in the duel. He was pretty sure that tripping Voldemort in the middle of the duel would have provided an interesting advantage for Dumbledore.

When Kiran finished putting all his books away, it was around ten at night and Remus still hadn’t returned to the tent. The young heir picked out a couple of Rune books and retired to his bed, where he fell asleep reading Runes Lost in Time. 

.~.~.~.

Kiran woke up slowly on Tuesday morning to find the book he had been reading last night sitting on the nightstand next to his bed. There was another book on top of the pile titled Minds and their Methods that had a note sticking out of it. The teen rolled onto his side and sleepily tugged the parchment from the book to read it.

.~.~.~.

Cub,   
Why don’t you spend the day reading this. I’ll be home late, so help yourself to any food in the fridge.  
\- Remus

.~.~.~.

The dark-haired male slipped the note back into the book and turned over so he could go back to sleep. He’d deal with the new book later; he was tired from everything that had happened over the past three days and wanted to sleep in.

Kiran officially got up a few hours later and crawled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom as soon as he was untangled from his covers. It was a nice bathroom, all things considered, but to Kiran all bathrooms were the same unless they contained baths like the ones found in the Prefects’ bathrooms at Hogwarts. The young wizard took a quick shower to wake up and wrapped his towel around his hips when he finished drying off, intending to go and get a change of clothes from his new wardrobe. 

He paused when he passed the bathroom mirror, noticing a series of scars on his right hip, the most prominent of which was in the shape of a lightning bolt. Kiran reached down with one hand and lightly traced the scar as a dawning recognition slowly filled his eyes. That small mark was the scar from Voldemort’s Avada Kedavra. It was missing from his forehead because the scar had somehow been transferred to his hip in one of the Inheritance Rituals. He had no clue which one – he’d ask Remus – but at least he couldn’t be recognized by that scar now, even if it seemed like his eyes were just as noticeable. He didn’t think that anyone else had his distinctive eyes, but then again he’d never met a demon and who knew what their eyes looked like. At least he hadn’t inherited red eyes like the ones Voldemort had, the young wizard thought with a shrug.

Kiran took a closer look at his hip and noticed the swirls underneath the scar, several of which looked like words. He glanced at his right hand and noticed that the scar from Umbridge’s blood quill was gone as well. He wouldn’t have to worry about hiding his hand, although the scar from the Basilisk’s fang was rather prominent on his bicep. It was smoother than before and the new edges almost made it look like some sort of decorative tattoo, but he could tell that it was still the same scar from second year. He’d have to make up some sort of story about getting the scar, but he had no clue what it would be. Kiran had a couple of months to devise a reason, so it wasn’t a priority right now. On the other hand, Occlumency and spellwork were currently vital, so he’d focus on them instead. What he looked like didn’t really matter, even if it seemed like one of his new families was a little obsessed with looking perfect in public. It was an odd thing to be obsessed with in his opinion; he didn’t think it mattered that much to anyone besides stuck-up gits like Malfoy.

He fed his birds before slipping into a clean outfit and making himself a late breakfast. Afterwards, Kiran grabbed the books from his nightstand and settled down in a chair to read them. Minds and their Methods was an interesting book and surprising clear despite addressing a difficult subject like Occlumency. It finally explained what Snape meant when he’d said “clear your mind” and listed several ways to accomplish that goal. Traditionally the student would clear their mind before finding a way to their mindscape. They would then spend the next several weeks entering, exiting, and exploring their mindscapes before deciding on the best way to shield their minds in accordance with the natural state of their mindscape. People with oceans for mindscapes often protected their mind with mythical creatures or fishing nets and hid their memories in the depths of the oceans where they would be hard to find. 

On the other hand, landscape mindscapes were often turned into mazes to misdirect people and hide memories. There was even a case of a fire elemental having the sun as a mindscape and using it to burn anyone who entered her mind. Kiran wondered what his mindscape would look like, but decided to finish the book before finding out. He didn’t want to get trapped inside his own mind or drive himself insane by experimenting.

The wizard finished the book mid-afternoon and got up to make a small lunch out of a sandwich and some apples. Kiran finished his meal quickly and returned to his living room, where he opened the Occlumency book once more and flipped through the chapter on entering a mindscape. He was supposed to concentrate on a single image, any image really, as long as it was simple and soothing. The book recommended a candle flame, concentric circles perpetuating on water, the facets of a crystal, a grain field moving in the wind, a waterfall, or the clouds moving across the sky. Kiran finally decided to concentrate on the shimmering structure of a snowflake he’d seen up close a few years ago.

The dark-haired boy began to trace the structure of the snowflake in his mind, concentrating on how the ice twisted and turned intricately, loosing himself in the pattern of the snowflake until the room seemed to turn cold around him and all he could see was white.

A sudden cramp in his leg harshly pulled him out of his meditative state and Kiran reached down to massage his leg after he re-orientated himself. The wizard spent several minutes dealing with his leg before looking over at a small clock on one of the side tables. He was surprised to see that it was almost nine at night. He had just spent six hours concentrating on a snowflake and he had nothing to show for it! Maybe there was something he’d missed the first time he read the book?

Kiran flipped Minds and their Methods open again and began to reread the section about accessing mindscapes, looking for a reason why he hadn’t entered his mindscape. He’d concentrated on an image like he was supposed to, but he hadn’t gotten anywhere. The wizard went on to reread a couple other parts of the books and was flipping through the book to look for more information when Remus entered the tent.

“We’re screwed. After the mess that Fenrir made of the Pack politics, there’s no way to reopen negotiations without a really nice gift and the Pack just doesn’t have the money for something like that. We don’t have the flowers, we can’t buy the metals and there’s no way we could get our hands on the gems that would work best. I could go get some, but that’s simply not a viable option right now,” Remus griped as he entered the tent.

“What are you talking about Remus?” Kiran said as he paused in his reading. Did Remus mean that the Pack was at war? Could the Pack even go to war?

Remus turned to look at his cub before collapsing in a chair and starting to talk. “In werewolf politics, you give a gift anytime you want to open negotiations. The problem is that for a negotiation of this level, gifts go on for seven days, escalating in value until the most important gift is given on the seventh day, which is when the Alphas actually negotiate. In the past gifts were often rare kills, but over time it’s evolved into money, gemstones, and difficult potions; the better the gift, the easier it is to make peace. Gemstones are one of the better gifts because they can be used magically as well as a physical representation of wealth.”

The werewolf was preoccupied with the problems he had inherited as Alpha. Fenrir had probably been the worst Alpha in the history of the Enzo Pack; the man had destroyed their relations with the surrounding groups and almost created rebel groups in some of the Tribes due to his decrees. Lupin had to figure out how to fix the Pack relations and reintegrate some of the more distant Tribes while simultaneously preparing Kiran to survive at K’ver, which guaranteed it was going to be a long summer for the poor werewolf. If he could just figure out how to foster a better relationship with the Eastern Europe Pack, then he could focus on dealing with the Veela problem. He’d already reversed Greyback’s decrees on the subject, but he didn’t want to try and deal with Veela until he had dealt with the werewolf Pack. He’d need someone to vouch for him to the Veela and he hoped the Eastern Europe Pack would do it once they had come to an agreement.

“What kind of stones?” Kiran asked curiously. He had a trunk full of gemstones he didn’t know what to do with, not to mention the rather large collection of stone-sized gems he bought yesterday. He didn’t think he could make that many amulets from the jewels, and anyways, he wanted to help the Pack if he could. Now where did he put that trunk? He’d swear it was over in this corner…

“Topaz, turquoise, sapphire, obsidian, moss agate, moonstone, lapis, jade, citrine, aquamarine, garnet, emerald, peridot; any of those stones would be helpful,” Remus listed absentmindedly, trying to figure out what he could do to initiate peace with the Eastern Europe Pack. He couldn’t go get the gems himself and he didn’t trust anyone besides Kiran to buy the stones for the Pack, but he wasn’t letting the cub leave Pack lands unprotected, so that idea was out.

Kiran had put his book down and stood up to locate the trunk he with the gemstones, finding it about the same time that Remus began listing stones. The black-haired wizard flipped the lid open and knelt down next to the trunk, staring at the sparkling gems within. The teen then began to carefully pull out the stones he recognized from the werewolf’s list. He thought one of the bigger stones he’d bought was called a peridot, the light green one, and everyone knew what topaz, sapphire, obsidian, garnet and emerald were and what they looked like. He knew he had jade and he thought he remembered what turquoise, moonstone, lapis, and citrine looked like from when Petunia kept the jewelry channel on while Vernon was out of the house. He had no clue what moss agate was though; hopefully his Guardian didn’t need that one.

The young heir slowly began pulling stones out of the trunk and putting them on the ground beside him, the glimmer catching Remus’ eyes and making the werewolf stare at the ever-growing pile of jewels in shock. 

The Alpha had forgotten exactly how many stones Kiran had bought, although he absently began classifying the types of gems being added to the pile. A large peridot, some round topaz, an emerald, a couple of sapphires…What exactly was his cub going to do with those?

Kiran grabbed a blanket off the couch and transferred his pile onto the fabric before standing up and dragging the make-shift bag over towards his guardian. The younger wizard left it at Remus’ feet and settled onto a chair across from him before speaking. “These should help, right?”

“Yes,” Remus answered slowly, surprised at just how willingly his cub seemed to donate the gems, but when he questioned the human about it he understood a bit of where Kiran was coming from. 

“I’m part of the Pack, aren’t I?” If Remus was Pack Alpha, then Kiran was part of the Pack too, wasn’t he? Would he have to leave if he wasn’t part of the Pack? He didn’t want to leave the last connection he had to his old life as Harry Potter. Kiran knew he’d have to leave Remus come fall, but he didn’t want to be separated from his Guardian until then.

“Of course you are,” the Alpha rushed to reassure his cub. If the teen thought he wasn’t welcome, then he’d try to leave and Remus would spend more time worrying about his cub than trying to help the Pack. If he had to, the werewolf decided, he’d make the group accept Kiran. It’d be messy, but he could pull it off if he had to.

“They why shouldn’t I try and help fix the problem?” the dark-haired boy responded with a smile before picking up his book again. 

That response was definitely something left over from Harry. The smaller boy had always helped his friends and it seemed that Kiran was going to continue that tradition, which would be dangerous for him at K’ver. Remus would have to talk to the younger wizard about the habit, but for now his wolf was happily rumbling about the fact that his cub identified with the Pack, something that the Alpha had silently been worrying about. Kiran had no reason to help a group of werewolves other than the fact that his Guardian was Alpha. Most wizards from the Worlds would have already run off in fright after the fight yesterday, but Kiran had never been accused of being normal, no matter what name he went by.

The younger wizard settled down to read as Remus thought and was once more engrossed in his book by the time the werewolf began to speak. “I’ll introduce you to the Pack formally tomorrow. We’ll use the gemstones as a proving gift, but they’ll want to see some sort of demonstration of strength before they’ll accept you.”

“Proving gift? Demonstration of strength? I need to fight someone?” Kiran questioned his guardian, his voice becoming more and more incredulous with every question. He knew he wasn’t ever going to be as strong as a werewolf and he had never been known for his physical prowess. He was screwed; he was going to fail so bad it wasn’t even going to be funny.

“Don’t worry about it, Kiran; you won’t need to fight them,” the werewolf reassured. “The jewels for a proving gift and performing your Patronus as a proving task should work fine. Magical power is just as important as physical power, sometimes more so, and the one thing I’m pretty sure you’re never going to have to worry about is not having enough power for a spell. You’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

Well, that was true. He’d never really had a problem with finding the power required for spells; he’d even produced a Patronus when he was thirteen. Hermione had mentioned something about the fact that it was difficult to produce a Patronus and some wizards never accomplished the charm. It wasn’t that it was hard to think of a happy memory to fuel the spell or hard to summon the power for it, but most wizards didn’t have the concentration to accomplish the charm until their seventh year at Hogwarts. In fact, producing a visible Patronus was one of the requirements to become an Auror because it showed a high level of concentration and was a good indication of power level. It took quite a bit of power to manifest a visible representation of happiness to the extent that that Kiran had. His Patronus was a creature that had driven off a multitude of Dementors and could interact with the physical world in a limited fashion, something that wasn’t exactly normal according to Hermione’s extensive research on the topic.

“We’ll present you to the Pack at sunset tomorrow, so make sure you’re well rested,” the werewolf said as he ruffled Kiran’s hair before exiting the younger male’s living room.

Kiran smiled at the werewolf’s friendly action before taking the Occlumency book back into his bedroom for another look. He was determined to figure out what went wrong when he tried to access his mindscape. The wizard read the book for another half an hour before closing it and going to sleep.

The young heir woke up in the middle of the night, the image of Sirius falling through the Veil flashing before his eyes once more. He didn’t scream this time, but the memory was even more vivid than the night after his godfather died. He could see the way Sirius’ eyes widened minutely as he realized he was going to fall through the arch and how the cloth of the Veil seemed to flutter in an invisible wind as the dog animagus passed through it. He could hear that bitch Bellatrix’s laugh echoing in his ears and an almost soundless tone that echoed around the chamber when Sirius’ body had completely disappeared into the Veil. 

Kiran knew there was no way he could possibly return to sleep after that nightmare, so he got up and grabbed one of the Rune books he had set aside earlier in favor of the Occlumency book. The young wizard dove into the book to get his mind off the dream, gladly learning about the basics of forgotten Runes from Runes Lost in Time. He didn’t learn a lot, as the book became quite technical after the first few chapters, using an understanding of several ancient runic languages that Kiran didn’t have. He needed to take a look at the more elementary books and gain a better understanding of Runes before he took another look at it, but at least the book seemed like it could help him once he knew more about the subject.

The young wizard was a little brain dead after trying to understand the book and easily slipped back into sleep. This time his sleep was thankfully dreamless and Kiran woke up a little after noon the next day feeling refreshed. He went through his morning ritual before grabbing a quick breakfast and once more settling down on the couches in his living room with his Occlumency book after feeding the two small owls. 

The human spent half an hour refreshing his knowledge about Occlumency before trying to reach his mindscape once more. This time he tried to concentrate on a flame – that was a failure – before moving on to a waterfall, which also didn’t work. He didn’t even reach a state where he was unaware of the passing of time like he had with when he thought about the snowflake. Kiran kept trying different images for a few more hours, continually failing to sink into them the same way he had with the snowflake. The wizard eventually had to stop experimenting in order to eat dinner and make sure he was ready to be introduced to the Pack. He figured he might need the extra energy and didn’t want to miss the meeting time, even if Remus would probably come get him anyway.

It was a little past nine at night when the werewolf returned to the tent to collect Kiran for the presentation ceremony. Remus went straight to the pile of gems from last night and transfigured a pillow into a sturdy bag so the jewels could be carried easier. The older wizard moved the pile of gems from the floor to the bag before handing the transfigured object to Kiran and ushering his cub out of the tent.

The sun was nearing the horizon as the two wizards left the tent, so Kiran could see the sky shading from a brilliant orange through a subtle pink and smoky purple to a deep blue in a spectacular sunset through the trees. There was a thin sliver of moon visible in the dusky blues, which relieved Kiran as it meant that he had a decent amount of time to get used to dealing with werewolves before he was required to be around them during the three days of the full moon. If Remus, who was usually nice and polite, was rude and short-tempered those days, then he didn’t even want to think about how other werewolves would act. He’d prefer to be a friend by that time, or at least whatever the werewolf equivalent of non-combatant was; there was no way that he wanted to be involved in a serious fight with someone who was at least twice as strong as he was. Besides, Kiran really didn’t have a clue how to fight, so avoiding any aggressive werewolves was a must.

The werewolf and the wizard travelled toward the clearing where Remus had killed Fenrir Greyback, the older male shepherding his younger companion in the correct direction. Syanth met the two shortly after they left their clearing and walked with them, carefully looking Kiran over before moving to talk to her Alpha. 

“No worries, he’s an alpha 1,” the Shaman whispered at a level too low for the young human to hear.

The male werewolf gave a silent sight of relief; his cub was at the top of the basic hierarchy. He wasn’t outside of it – which would have probably been better – but he’d be safe from over-ambitious alphas in the Pack trying to take advantage of the Alpha’s cub. There was no shame in being a beta, delta or gamma, but Fenrir’s Tribe was still around and Remus didn’t want them abusing Kiran because they thought it was their right. He’d heard horror stories from gammas of that Tribe and wanted nothing to do with alphas or betas that acted like that. He’d see about what he could to exile them from the Pack, but it took quite a bit of work to do that and he didn’t have good relations with the other Packs, so the idea had to be put on hold for the moment. Remus was pretty sure that he’d have to kill some of Fenrir’s alphas before the summer was out, even if everything went as smoothly as possible. He’d just have to keep a close eye on his cub…

The three entered the clearing and walked over to the rocky face of the mountain, the Pack members that were already in the clearing respectfully moving aside for their Alpha and Shaman. A few stragglers entered the clearing and situated themselves on the outskirts of it before Remus began to speak.

“A presentation and proving will be taking place tonight; I yield the floor to the Shaman,” the Alpha said before moving backwards slightly to let Syanth come to the front.

“I present to you Kiran Keir Wilhelm. He comes this night to join the Pack through the presentation of a proving gift and a demonstration of magical strength,” Syanth announced clearly to the werewolves, the setting sun casting dusky shadows across their faces and bodies.

“The proving gift?” The Shaman held out a hand imperiously.

Kiran looked over a Remus for direction but saw the Alpha looking out at the crowd. Well, his father’s mate wasn’t any help, so he’d have to wing it. The wizard hesitantly handed over the bag containing the jewels, wondering if he was supposed to be saying something. This sounded highly ritualized and that probably meant that he had a part, but Remus hadn’t told him what to say – which was a problem. He finally decided to just stay quiet, as it was probably worse to say the wrong thing than to say nothing at all.

Syanth accepted the bag and turned it over, allowing the jewels inside to fall out onto the dirt. The falling gems caught the last dying rays of the sun and sparkled brilliantly as they tumbled through the air and fell in a heap on the ground.

Several eyes widened at the pile of gemstones, but most narrowed; family was family, but if Lupin thought that they would accept the induction of his cub into the Pack just because the kid was rich, then he had another thing coming. Of course the Alpha could force the issue and make them accept the cub, but they’d just respond by subtly distancing their Tribes from the Pack. That was what they’d planned to do when Fenrir was Alpha and the plans were still valid if Remus turned out to be lacking as well. They weren’t going to accept the young wizard without some proof of his strength – and he’d have to be pretty strong magically for them to even consider accepting him. Humans weren’t accepted as Pack very often for good reason: they simply weren’t strong enough to make it in werewolf society when the lycanthropes were so much more powerful physically and mentally. Generally they were also stronger magically, so the wolves had no need to accept humans as Pack when they did fine on their own.

“The Pack accepts such a gift and asks for a demonstration of strength,” Syanth continued softly after the last gem fell to the ground, awed despite herself. Those gems were worth quite a bit and if the boy was using them as a proving gift, then she didn’t want to think about what else he had in his tent.

Kiran hesitantly stepped forward and raised his new wand before saying the Patronus Charm. The familiar silver mist appeared and began to coalesce in the dusky twilight, but the shape surprised Kiran. Instead of a large silver stag appearing like it had in third year, a large wolf-like Grim formed from the particles of light. Kiran stared at it in shock, barely noticing that the Patronus was glowing as he tried to understand why his Patronus had changed from a stag to this odd canine.

The dog was large and lean, reminding Kiran of a cross between Sirius’ Animagus form and Remus’ wolf form. The glowing canine stalked around the clearing, illuminating the surprised faces of the gathered werewolves to his master’s eyes. Several werewolves flinched back from the bright light, but the Patronus ignored them and moved towards the pile of gemstones. It nudged the heap curiously with his nose before sidling up to Kiran and leaning against his side. The young wizard cautiously reached down and petted the large canine on the head, the plush fur feeling cool and smooth under his fingertips. The Patronus took a quick look around the clearing, checking for any threats he might have missed, before lightly head butting his master’s leg and disappearing.

Several eyes in the crowd relaxed; the cub was definitely strong enough to join the Pack. They’d never seen a Patronus that literally glowed with power and had the ability to interact with the physical world. Forming strong ties with Kiran as soon as possible would be the best course of action. After all, it would be a boost their status as a Pack to have such a magically gifted youth join them. And if the young wizard was that powerful now, just think of what the boy could do in a few years…

“This man has proven his worth to the Pack. As such, we give him a name created by the Pack, for the Pack: Faelan. Do you accept this name and this Pack, with all of its rules and traditions?” the Shaman questioned Kiran.

The young wizard responded positively; he was sure that he wanted to be a part of a family for the first time in his life. He had been close to the Weasleys, but that had been as Harry Potter, not Kiran Wilhelm. He didn’t have anything like that now and he wanted it badly. Remus was acting like a concerned uncle, but the young man didn’t have any confirmed ties to the werewolf beside Guardianship. He wanted to fit in with the Alpha’s new world, so there was no way he was going to refuse.

“I present to you Kiran Faelan Lupin Enzo, alpha 1, sole cub of Alpha Remus Lupin Enzo and member of the Lupin Tribe. We welcome him,” Syanth announced to the gathered werewolves.

“We welcome him,” the lycanthropes in the clearing echoed back, everyone watching carefully as Kiran glowed a vivid amber and subtle white gold. Several werewolves nodded to themselves before turning and talking to their neighbors. The younger wolves moved to form lose groups and began to talk amongst themselves while the young wizard just stood there, unsure of what do to now that the ceremony was evidently over.

Remus gave a sad smile at Kiran’s shyness about introducing himself and socializing. That was definitely left over from Harry – the Boy-Who-Lived had always been introverted, putting himself forward only when someone was in danger. The first wouldn’t be a bad thing at K’ver, as it would help his cub stay unnoticed, but the second thing could get him killed. K’ver didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘tame’ or ‘safe’ and probably never would. It’s why the school was so remarkable – they took risks there that no one else would when teaching children, despite the fact that those risks often killed the students involved. Remus would have preferred Kiran going to almost any other school, but since the cub had accepted the invitation, he couldn’t go to another school until he graduated. The Alpha had heard about K’ver penalties and he didn’t want his cub reneging on his agreement with the school. Hopefully Kiran could at least make some friends before he left for school…

The werewolf moved forward so he was behind his cub and nudged the boy towards one of the younger-looking groups of werewolves. “Why don’t you go make some friends?”

The young wizard moved forward towards the indicated group and began to talk to some of them. The Alpha listened in as the wolves introduced themselves and the group began small talk about their various interests. One of the wolves was fascinated with swords, while another seemed obsessed with gardening. Kiran got dragged into a conversation about dangerous creatures by a third werewolf and ended up arguing about which dragons were the most dangerous. Kiran insisted that Norwegian Ridgebacks were actually rather sweet for dragons and that Hungarian Horntails, while exceedingly dangerous and aggressive, could be handled relatively easily if the handler did it right. The wolves he were talking to couldn’t quite believe what he was saying, but it was a good point to argue about and the group had fun talking about different types of dragons as the argument progressed.

Seeing his cub mingling pleasantly with the younger werewolves, Remus sent up a thankful prayer and began to look around for the Tribe leaders. The Alpha had wanted to be around when Kiran interacted with the Pack for the first time, just in case something happened, but it looked like everything was going fine. It was difficult to integrate when everyone around was stronger and relied on unknown instincts, but it seemed that Kiran was off to a good start. His social and hierarchical position in the pack was higher than his companions, so there wasn’t a high possibility of conflict. If there was one thing the Alpha liked about being a werewolf besides the heightened senses, it was that all wolves knew their place in the Pack and never tried to social climb like wizards. There was only so much one could do to raise their social standing and there was virtually nothing anyone could do about their position in the hierarchy – alphas were alphas and gammas were gammas, there was no way to change it.

Remus let Kiran interact with the group for a couple of hours while he socialized with high-ranking members of the Tribes, trying to get a better feel for the attitude of individual groups in the Pack. If there were large differences between their opinions and his, then there would be problems on the horizon. He couldn’t resign as Alpha, as the only way to stop being a Pack Alpha or Tribe alpha was to lose a fight for leadership or die, so Remus was stuck dealing with the Pack’s opinions until someone challenged him for leadership or he died. At least the majority of the Tribes’ opinions coincided with his, so any problems should be minor in nature and Remus wouldn’t have to enforce new edicts on his own.

When the werewolf was done talking with the other wolves, he gathered up his cub and brought the two of them back to their tent for the night. The two wizards quickly got ready for bed, Remus’ parting words echoing in Kiran’s head as he fell asleep.

“Stay inside for a few days and work on your Occlumency; there’s a few things I need to deal with before it’s safe for you to wander around. It’ll only take a couple of days, so try to curb your need to explore until then, okay? You can do what you want afterwards, but wait until I say it’s safe to mingle with the Pack?”

.~.~.~.

Kiran woke up the next morning a little blurry headed and really only remembering Remus’ advice to practice Occlumency. The younger wizard got ready for the day before curling up on one of the couches and placing the book on Mind Arts next to him.

The black-haired boy began to concentrate on the snowflake he’d used two days ago. His world slowly filled with white until it was all he could see, but then the never-ending white seemed to devolve into flecks that whirled around him. Cold air chilled his skin as the snow twirled around him, his feet barely finding purchase on the slippery ice.

Once he was more stable, Kiran looked around in shock and saw large snowflakes filling the air, blocking out almost everything around him. He could roughly see icebergs and snow-covered mountains through the curtain of snow and ice, although the cold of his environment was seeping into body and freezing his extremities. Kiran moved forward in the thigh-high snow inch by inch, the cold beginning to permeate his bones until he could barely flex his fingers and toes.

The teen was trying to find a way to escape the freezing landscape of his mind, but couldn’t think of anything as his teeth chattered loudly in his ears. Kiran kept trying to trudge forward for indeterminable amount of time when he felt a phantom hand shaking his shoulder. He shrugged off the feeling once, twice, three times, before it left him alone and he suddenly felt a shock of warmth travel across his body.

Kiran blinked and suddenly found himself ensorcelled in a hot bath with Remus hovering nearby. The werewolf looked extremely agitated as he paced next to the tub and swore vividly under his breath.

“Whatever you just did, you’re not allowed to do it again until you know more about what you’re doing,” Remus said promptly once he realized that Kiran had returned to awareness. His cub had been freezing; his skin as cold as ice when he’d come home tonight and nothing he’d done had woken the younger wizard. The Alpha was just about to call Syanth when he spotted consciousness returning to Kiran’s eyes.

“When I came home twenty minutes ago, I found you shivering on the couch and I’ve been trying to wake you up ever since. Shaking you didn’t work and neither did warming charms, so I tried a bath. I’m just glad that it woke you up – I couldn’t lose you right after losing Sirius, cub, it would drive me insane.”

“Sorry,” Kiran said with a painful and sheepish smile as he tried to thaw out. He hadn’t meant to get stuck in his mindscape, but the book hadn’t covered anything like what happened to him. “I didn’t mean to worry you, but it turns out that my mindscape has a freezing blizzard in it and I couldn’t see anything, much less find a way to get out.”

“You should be able to navigate in your own mind,” the werewolf said with a frown. He hadn’t heard of anyone that had almost died trying to access their own mindscape – at least not anyone that wasn’t mentally damaged in some way or had a violent second personality. 

“I want you to spend the next couple of days reading all of the books you have that deal with the Mind Arts and exploring your magic. Hopefully they’ll have information that will help you prevent this from happening again, but I don’t want you trying to access your mindscape again without me around, okay?”

“Okay.” If he couldn’t bring himself out of his mindscape, then he definitely wanted someone around to do it for him!

The Alpha muttered a charm and waved his wand at the water before addressing Kiran once more. “I want you to stay in the water until you feel warm and can move all your fingers and toes. Then you’re going straight to bed.”

The werewolf left the bathroom for his cub’s bedchamber, allowing Kiran to strip off his sodden clothing and luxuriate in the warm water. The young heir spent some time thinking while his guardian did something in his room, and sprung a question on Remus as soon as he returned.

“So do you think I could be an ice elemental?” Kiran questioned curiously. “I mean, the book said that a fire elemental had a sun for a mindscape, so it would make sense –”

“No,” the Alpha interrupted. “If you were an ice elemental you would have been giving off the cold, not freezing and needing to warm up. The blizzard probably has something to do with your magic, but what exactly I have absolutely no clue.”

The werewolf handed his cub a large towel and turned around to let the younger male get out of the tub and change before shepherding him towards bed. Kiran groaned as he saw the pile of books sitting on his nightstand, which made Remus chuckle in return. The older wizard made sure his companion was tucked into bed and beginning to fall asleep before he left the room.

.~.~.~.

Draco Malfoy waltzed into Gringotts bright and early the next the morning on the eighth day after Sirius died, almost floating at the thought of becoming Lord Black. The Malfoy name was powerful, but the Black name? That was a name everyone feared, a name that could get him access to circles even his father couldn’t touch, a name that would make him indispensable to the Dark Lord. As Lord Black he would have command of a fortune and a reputation that would make him invincible in both Ministry circles and the more influential circles of the Underground. People would offer him whatever he wanted; they would even beg to help him in exchange for his favor. But what took the cake was that he would be stealing it out from under Saint Potter’s very nose!

High off imagining his new power as Lord Black, the blonde wizard thought nothing of confidently walking up to one of the Goblins and handing out orders. “You will bring me to the Black Family Vault as is my right as Lord Black.”

As Lord Black his demands should have been met promptly – after all, the Blacks had quite a bit of money tucked away in the House Vault according to his mother and the Goblins respected money, even if they didn’t respect much else, the filthy beasts. The blond raised an eyebrow when the Goblin did not immediately rush to do his bidding. The creature would do as it was told, or he would have it punished.

Macerock, the unfortunate Goblin that was forced to deal with Malfoy, gave a slow smile. “And who are you to order such a thing?”

“Did you not hear me the first time? I am Lord Draconis Lucius Malfoy Black of House Black, Heir to House Malfoy. The Black House Vault is mine by right,” Draco sneered as he waited for the Goblin to realize its earlier error. Such stupidity was certainly the mark of its inferior race.

“As I said earlier, Mr. Malfoy, who are you to authorize such a thing? The Vault in question has already been claimed,” the Goblin behind the desk said with another nasty smile. Gringotts Goblins took special pleasure in annoying rude purebloods in any way possible, to the point that Goblin supervisors filled out scorecards on the actions of their inferiors to rate them on how frustrated the wizard in question became. Macerock was pretty sure he’d get at least an 8.4 with the way things were going and he only needed a few more high scores to advance a step upward in the hierarchy of Gringotts. He couldn’t wait to stop working as a teller and finally get apprenticed to one of the more influential Goblins to learn a trade.

“I have blood precedence!” Draco declared furiously. There was no way the Golden Boy knew about the sevenday rule and Draco was the closest heir! That Vault and the power that went with it were his – he was Lord Black now! 

“The Vault was claimed according to the Will of Sirius Black within the sevenday, Mr. Malfoy; it does not belongs to you,” the Goblin told the fuming young wizard. He might just get a 9.8 today; that would show Leadeath that a he wasn’t the only one who was good at provoking the stupid blood purists – Macerock was just as good!

“I challenge for the blood!” Draco blurted out as the dream of being Lord Black began to disappear before his eyes.

This was his last chance – if the Magics of House Black accepted him and hadn’t accepted the Vault’s current owner then he was Lord Draconis Black. If the Black Magics had accepted the other person, then he was out of luck, but there was no way that could happen. The motto of House Black had always been Toujours Pur – always pure – and only purebloods could claim that legacy. He was a certified pureblood back 43 generations and he didn’t know of any other purebloods on the Black Family Tree that were still alive. Perfect Potter was a documented half-blood due to his mudblood mother; Draco was the only possible option.

The Goblin’s smile became more vicious as he gave the blonde one more piece of information. Macerock was secure in his place now; he definitely had that 9.8 and there were obvious notations on several files that had been updated within the past week – all of them pertaining to inherited Vaults. Someone had been busy, but that was above his clearance level and he wasn’t going to get himself killed looking into the subject. Now, the best way to get the stupid boy kicked out of Gringotts would be…

“I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but the Magics of House Black have already accepted a new Lord, so a blood challenge is not possible. Do you have any other business with the bank today?”

The fact that the Malfoy heir was standing shocked in front of a teller and blocking other wizards from the approaching quickly caught the attention of Goblin guards. The trio of Goblins walked over to the wizard and tried to stop him from blocking Macerock from making more profit for Gringotts. When the wizard refused to move, the Goblin guards gave vicious smiles and began to prod the Malfoy heir outside of the bank with the sharp handles of their halberds. Macerock might lose a point for that, but it was worth it to see the pompous brat standing shocked outside the bank.

Draco Malfoy was left gaping unattractively on the steps of Gringotts, unable to comprehend why he was not currently Lord Black. There must have been some mistake, Draco decided. He was the closest pureblood heir and Precious Potter wasn’t a pureblood, so he couldn’t have inherited the Black Family Magics; they would have killed him immediately. It was unthinkable that he hadn’t inherited the title of Lord Black. Something must have been misread by those inferior creatures that ran the bank and he’d come back tomorrow with his mother to see what the Goblins had to say then.

Having decided on a course of action, Draco pulled himself together and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron to use the floo. He would tell his mother about what had happened – they had been counting on the Black name to open doors that had previous been closed to them, even going so far as to insinuate that Draco was guaranteed to be Lord Black. The Goblins’ actions would put a slight pause in their plans, but he was sure everything would be straightened out tomorrow and he would be Lord Black again. 

Besides, they needed more money after getting his father out of Azkaban in order to keep their current lifestyle. Malfoys never appeared as anything less than perfect and they definitely didn’t languish in prison. Potter had caused both and he would pay for that insult! Potter would pay in blood when Draco got a hold of him, blood and pain the blonde wizard swore to himself, blood and pain. 

The blonde would use the Black name to hire someone to kidnap the other male, but he would take personal pleasure in torturing the younger wizard. He would make the sanctimonious Gryffindor beg for death before he was done. Then he’d hand him over to the Dark Lord, broken in body and mind. After all, his liege had only reserved Potter’s death; anything else was still fair game and who was to say he hadn’t found the boy broken?

.~.~.~.

“As Chief Warlock I hereby call this meeting of the Wizengamot to order.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily from his chair on the dais as he continued. “The first order of business is the Will of the now deceased Sirius Black. Are there any opinions on this matter?”

The old wizard looked around the room and noticed Neville’s grandmother’s small motion, a discrete request to speak on the subject.

Dumbledore had called this meeting specifically to seal Sirius’ Will and block Harry from achieving emancipation before his legal majority. He wasn’t able to indicate he wanted the Will sealed as Chief Warlock – it would ruin his public image as Harry’s defender – but he could manipulate the events to make sure he achieved his goal. Madame Longbottom would automatically be against anyone related to the woman who had tortured her son into insanity; she would make sure that the Will was be sealed one way or another. All he’d had to do was subtly inform her about the upcoming case, something that was easily taken care of by informing the Daily Prophet of the death of Sirius Black, and Lady Longbottom would take care of everything for him.

“The Chief Warlock yields the floor to Lady Longbottom.”

“The Lady Longbottom graciously accepts.” The Longbottom matriarch gave a soft nod of her head before her eyes steeled and her voice turned hard. “The Will of a condemned Death Eater should be sealed. It is apparent that the man known as You-Know-Who’s Right Hand would leave the entirety of the Black fortune to one of the Dark Lord’s other followers and the Wizengamot does not, and will not, support terrorists such as the Death Eaters.”

“Very well. A vote on the motion to seal the Will of Sirius Black?” Albus declared, making sure to keep his glee at the way things were progressing to himself. That speech couldn’t have gone better if he’d written it himself; it was obvious that she had spent quite a bit of time picking her words to leave the darker members of their government only one option to prevent being accused of being Death Eaters. They would support the sealing of the Will or be condemned by public opinion.

The vote passed as Albus expected, but it was with a smaller majority than the Headmaster had planned. The Potter seat was listed as absent, along with several other light-aligned houses and a couple of the darker Houses; Dumbledore would swear that he told the Potter proxy when and where the meeting was happening. Albus tucked that fact into a corner of his mind for pondering at a more convenient time and continued his role as Chief Warlock.

The Headmaster sent a clerk to Gringotts for Sirius’ Will so the Wizengamot could formally seal it and proceeded with the meeting docket. The Wizengamot had finished the list by the time the clerk returned followed by an officious looking Goblin.

“This is Spearback, Head of Goblin Office of Wills,” the clerk introduced. “He is here on behalf of the Will of Sirius Black.”

“Is there a problem with the Will, Goblin Head Spearback?” Dumbledore asked, making sure to keep the beginnings of his worry out of his voice. It wasn’t normal for Goblins to come to a Will sealing, much less the Head of the entire Office of Wills. If this meant that the Will couldn’t be sealed, then he was going to have a problem, one that would take some delicate and near invisible manipulation to turn in his favor.

“There are no problems with the Will, Chief Warlock,” Spearback stated carefully, “but it cannot be sealed.”

“What do you mean it can’t be sealed?!” one of the more excitable members of the Wizengamot yelled out in shock. They’d never had a problem with sealing a Will before, so why was Gringotts giving them trouble now?

“The Will has already been executed and therefore cannot be sealed,” the Goblin said with a smirk that was barely visible. It wasn’t very often that he got the chance to annoy this many high-ranking wizards and he was enjoying the opportunity.

“Thank you for your time, Goblin Head Spearback,” Dumbledore said graciously, hiding his anger behind strong mental shields. His pawn was acting up, ruining his plans and causing problems. A large percent of the Wizengamot would pounce on any visible weakness, and he couldn’t afford that despite his position as Chief Warlock.

“As the sealing of Sirius Black’s Will is not possible due to previous execution and the docket has been completed, this meeting of the Wizengamot is now finished. Thank you for your attendance today.” Albus gathered his robes and left the government chamber for the floo access points. No time to waste.

The Headmaster immediately flooed back to Hogwarts to check the instruments he had attuned to Harry. His little silver toys would tell him where the Potter boy was and his condition so Albus knew which member of the Order of the Phoenix would be best to fetch his pawn. He had told Potter not to leave the Dursleys and Harry had obviously not listened to him; there was no other way that Sirius’ Will could have been fulfilled other than by the Potter heir going to Gringotts.

When Albus emerged into his office from the fireplace, the first thing he noticed was that all of his tracking devices for Harry had been decommissioned while he had been politicking the past week and waiting to seal Sirius’ Will. His little silver status marker for the brat was twisted and melted into pieces while his all purpose tracker had literally fallen to pieces. The back-up instruments were also torqued out of shape and scattered across his desk. Several of the delicate pieces had even fallen to the ground and shattered. Some could be restarted easily enough, but others would take quite a bit of time and money to fix.

Interestingly enough, those broken machines meant that the kid was either under some powerful foreign wards, had accidentally done something stupid to upset his delicate instruments or, worst case scenario, the blasted boy had finally died. It was most likely that he had had a fit of grief over his godfather’s death and magically fried everything connected to him in his sorrow. It would be a pain to reset everything, but it wouldn’t exactly be hard as long as the boy was where he should be. He’d just pick up some new hair and blood samples to reset those of his toys that were still working and guilt trip the poor boy about disobeying him – after all, the last time Harry had done that it had gotten his godfather killed, and wasn’t it a pity that it had been all his fault? Of course he’d never be so crass as to state something like that aloud, but he’d gotten quite good at implying things over the years, so it wouldn’t be too hard to make the Potter boy feel guilty.

Dumbledore took a leisurely walk down to Hogwart’s gate – after all, it wasn’t as if the boy could actually go anywhere without people commenting on the actions of the Boy-Who-Lived – and apparated to Number 4 Private Drive where he was surprised to find a little toddler playing in the grass and being watched by her brunette mother. 

Those were not the Dursleys, not by any stretch of the imagination, and that was a problem. Harry wasn’t where he was supposed to be because his muggle relatives weren’t where they were supposed to be. He was going to find Potter one way or another, and the first step to doing so was finding the Dursleys. These new muggles should know where the Dursleys went with Harry, and if they wouldn’t answer his questions, then his Legimancy was always a valid second option. It wasn’t as if they would notice.

“Hello my dear,” Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile as he approached the white picket fence.

“You need something?” the mother asked curtly as she picked up her little girl. There was no way she wanted her baby anywhere the weird old man dressed in a blindingly bright blue bathrobe with little bright green frogs dancing around. He was probably a pedophile – a color blind pervert! – and she wanted him off her property.

“I was looking for the people who used to live here, the Dursleys,” the old man said with another smile as he looked straight into her eyes, using Legimancy to sneak a peak at her thoughts. They were rather boringly mundane, all centered on caring for her child and her hard-working husband. Dumbledore subtly encouraged her trust so she’d tell him what he wanted to know and simply waited for her answer.

“We don’t know who lived here. Sorry,” dark-haired woman bit out. She didn’t want this old guy around the neighborhood, so she’d tell him what she could if it would make him leave. “We bought the house from Surrey Real Estate five months ago. We have no clue who lived here before us, so please leave us alone.”

“Of course. I’m sorry to have bothered you,” Albus said with just the right touch of remorse to make him seem embarrassed about bothering the woman. He was more annoyed than embarrassed – the trip had been virtually useless. He’d send somebody to the real estate office later; no point in wasting effort tracking down the Dursleys if they could just find Harry first.

It was a pity that Dumbledore would have to track down Harry manually – he’d send his Order after the boy – but first he planned to return to his office and see if Fawkes could find the boy. The Headmaster rounded the corner and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts where he rushed towards his office. 

He sent Fawkes off to find Harry as soon as he arrived, but the bird flamed back almost as soon as he left. The phoenix would have found the boy unless he was under powerful old wards or he was stone-cold dead, so it was time to call the Order and get them to volunteer their time and effort to find Harry.

Albus sent out a message to the members of the Order about a meeting that night and spent the next couple of hours trying to rehabilitate his tracking instruments. He got a few of the delicate things to work again and used some of Harry’s blood reset them, but they simply caught on fire and melted down – in the process causing Dumbledore’s beard to singe and blacken.

The old wizard gave a quick wave of his wand to put out the fire and used another motion to fix the condition of his beard. The Headmaster gave a considering look at his instruments and simply decided to wait until his Order finally found the boy. He didn’t want to waste any of the blood and hair that he’d taken from Harry over the past few years when he might need them later and if Fawkes and his instruments couldn’t find the boy, then no magic short of the darker rituals would be able to find him now. He wasn’t that desperate yet and even if he was, he’d make sure someone else did the hard work for him instead – maybe Severus. No need to tell the man why he was making a potion for the Headmaster.

Albus planned to meet his Order at the Black Mansion, so he arrived slightly early and settled down at the table with a conjured cup of tea in order to wait for the other members of the vigilante group.

Everyone trickled in slowly over the next half an hour as the old man watched them settle down around the table in the dining room and begin to talk to their neighbors. When all of the Order members had arrived, the Headmaster made a subtle noise under his breath to start the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. 

Albus waited until he had everyone’s attention before he spoke four simple words that caused a frenzy amongst his Order members.

“Harry Potter is missing.”


	7. Defense Comes First

Albus gave his announcement about Harry’s disappearance and simply sat back to watch the chaotic reactions of his Order. He was relatively certain of their beliefs and their basic patterns of thought, but it never hurt to watch people’s reactions, just in case they had been hiding something from him. Shocking statements were always useful for that, if nothing else.

Some people seemed to fall back in shock as they collapsed in their chairs and the Headmaster skimmed his eyes over them to make sure then hadn’t fainted or something else equally ridiculous before shifting most of his attention to the more interesting reactions of other Order members. He was searching for small clues that would give away their feelings on the subject of Potter’s sudden absence, because those that didn’t trust him would betray themselves with small gestures of triumph or satisfaction at Harry’s missing status.

He focused his eyes on Molly Weasley and her angry and mostly incoherent tirade in order to appease her, but quickly switched his attention away from the obvious reaction to see what other Order members were doing. Albus took discreet glances at Severus who was vacillating between a victorious smirk and a vicious scowl, Kingsley’s drawn eyebrows and upset frown, Alastor's wildly crazy laughter in the corner and Nymphadora’s quiet hysterics. He’d expected Snape’s changing opinions, Kingsley’s upset, and Nymphadora’s reaction, but he hadn’t predicted Moody’s laughter, a surprising reaction that he most certainly did not appreciate. Dumbledore smoothed out his expression before it had a chance to fully manifest, but had to work to suppress the following frown when he finally noticed that Remus wasn’t present. There was no decent reason for the werewolf to be absent, and it was possible that Remus had helped Harry leave his relatives. He’d have to look into that later, after they’d secured Harry. 

That one small boy could cause so many problems was something of a mystery to Albus simply because it seemed so improbable. The Headmaster, despite the fact he was famed across the globe as a powerful wizard, was a firm believer in logical consequences and the rippling repercussions and reason behind most of Harry’s actions had never been logical. The Head of the Wizengamot couldn’t think of a reason why the boy would have left his family – the abuse had never been sexual and he’d personally made sure that Vernon never caused permanent damaged to Harry, at least not to the level of creating a disability. Yes, the boy was a little on the small side – a tall Boy-Who-Lived would have caused Dumbledore problems – and he was somewhat undernourished – Poppy was slowly fixing that – but it wasn’t too obvious unless people looked closely at Harry, something the boy avoided at all cost. Really, there was no reason for the boy to disappear…

Some of the wizards and witches were attempting to help Mr. Weasley calm down his wife – and failing miserably – or trying to calm down Tonks enough so that her features weren’t constantly morphing and causing headaches for anyone who even glanced in her direction. Kingsley and Moody were off in the corner and whispering to each other by the time that Albus decided to call the meeting to order. He hadn’t had a chance to get a spell on either of the two conspirators in the corner and needed to limit the time they had to plot. The easiest way to do so was to reconvene the meeting, which Albus did posthaste.

“Ladies and gentlemen, calm yourselves; I visited the Dursleys’ house earlier today to check on how Harry was doing after his godfather’s death and it seems that the family no longer lives there. We –”

“We have to find them!” Molly interrupted Albus hysterically. “Harry could have been kidnapped by Death Eaters or bitten by a werewolf or suffering spell damage or gasping for breath or bleeding to death or being tortured or –”

“I’m sure the family is fine, Molly,” Minerva broke in with a glare at Dumbledore. “They probably just decide to move. Besides, I think Harry’s proven that he can take care of himself by now.”

“But children shouldn’t be taking care of themselves; they should be enjoying their childhoods!” Molly responded ardently.

“Yes they should.” Albus gave a grandfatherly smile. “And I’m sure Harry is enjoying his childhood wherever the Dursleys currently are. In fact, the family at the Dursleys’ house suggested that the previous occupants had moved away sometime in the past year. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where they moved to, so if Hestia and Kingsley would be so kind as to go investigate where they went –”

“I’m coming too!” Tonks interrupted, her features finally having calmed down so that now only her hair was changing as it cycled through eye-watering colors. Several people subtly shifted their chairs so they wouldn’t have to look at her before refocusing on the Headmaster.

“Of course,” Dumbledore said with another smile. After all, he’d been expecting her to volunteer to find her cousin’s godson, so it really wasn’t that surprising that she interrupted him. “If the three of you would spend tomorrow investigating where the Dursleys moved to – and where Harry might be if he didn’t go with them – then we can move on to other matters knowing Harry’s safety is in good hands. Perhaps a few of you could casually spend time in Diagon Alley over the next few days, just in case Harry shows up. Now, Severus, does Voldemort know that Harry is gone?”

“Although several requests for restorative potions have been delivered to me by the Dark Lord’s distinctive bird, the wizard himself has been sequestered in his chambers since the night of the Ministry invasion. He refuses entry to Lucius and Bellatrix, only sending Nagini out to collect the potions brewed for him. If he knows about Potter’s disappearance, I know not, as he hasn’t seen fit to inform anyone of his thoughts,” the Potions Master reported with a scowl.

“Very well,” Albus said with a calm smile before moving on to other Order business, taking careful note of the way that Severus had spoken. He’d have to speak to his spy again soon, make sure that he could trust the Death Eater to report the truth only to the Headmaster and lies to his other master.

.~.~.~.

Early the next morning Tonks, Hestia and Kingsley appeared in the bushes near Number 4 Private Drive with the sharp crack of apparition. Hestia and the Kingsley smoothly made their way out of the bushes, the tall bald man wincing at the racket the younger witch made as she followed them out onto the sidewalk.

The three Order members moved towards the door of the Dursleys’ old residence as the male Auror made sure that Hestia was in the lead. The female was more likely to be trusted by the house’s new residents over him or the metamorphagus who currently looked like a punk with her bright pink hair.

Jones knocked on the door instead of ringing the doorbell in order to avoid waking any sleeping children before she stepped back slightly to wait for a reply. When the owner of the house finally answered the door, she had a small toddler on her hip and a frown on her face.

“How can I help you?” the mother asked sharply; three strangers had knocking on her door at 8 am on Saturday morning did not make her happy. She was focused on Hestia, but her child was staring at Tonks in fascination as the metamorphagus slowly changed her eyes from light blue to a bright green and then a hot pink that matched her hair. The youngling gurgled happily, interrupting the conversation that Hestia was trying to start with the lady of the house.

The mother smiled at Tonks and stepped around Jones to talk to the brightly colored young woman that her child liked. Tonks looked at Kingsley right before the Muggle reached her and the metamorphagus hesitantly began talking.

“We’re friends of Harry Potter and he used to live here with the Dursleys. He seemed really surprised his family was moving when he left the train after boarding school ended and didn’t have a chance to tell us his new address so we could keep in contact – I said I’d tutor him for university this summer,” Tonks told the woman, using a self-conscious shoulder shrug to make her hastily constructed lie more believable. “Would you happen to know where the family moved to?” 

“Well, we don’t know who lived here before us – the house was on the market for over half a year before we bought it – but it was on offer by Surrey Real Estate, so you might want to check there if you’re looking for a forwarding address or something similar. Talk to Lou Ann Baker if you can, she handled our account and took the check, so presumably she knows where to send the money,” the suburban mother told the young Auror. 

Tonks thanked her and the three wizards turned around to leave when the lady called Tonks back and held a short conversation with the pink-haired female before waving goodbye to the group from her doorway.

“So what was that about?” Kingsley asked the younger witch once she rejoined them.

“She wanted to know if I could babysit for her,” the metamorphagus said with a blush, trying to avoid Hestia’s glare.

“So where is the real estate agency?” Hestia asked in a slightly rude tone. The older woman was annoyed that that the mother had chosen to talk to Tonks when she was obviously the more maternal of the two and the female Auror looked like a common punk.

“We can just use a phone book and apparate to a location near the store,” Kingsley replied for Tonks, making sure to cut off the argument between the two witches before it could really begin.

“I know there’s a phone booth on the corner a couple of blocks from here,” Tonks volunteered promptly. She’d spent some time looking over maps of the area before apparating there in order to make sure she didn’t splinch herself or end up in a city on the opposite side of the world; one of the maps listed the locations of phone booths.

The tall man nodded in response and began to walk in the direction the metamorphagus had indicated, Tonks following quickly at his shoulder and the other witch trailing behind the two Aurors.

When the three wizards reached the phone booth in question, Tonks looked up the address, which turned out to be only six blocks up and four blocks over. The small contingent moved towards the shop and quickly entered into it, Tonks taking the lead this time to ask the receptionist for an address to send a birthday card to. She explained that they’d lost contact with the Dursleys and were trying to send then a card when the people at the house had returned the letter with a notice that the Dursleys weren’t living at that address anymore. The three of them had stopped by the house to find a forwarding address and had been directed to the real estate agency.

“Well, we really weren’t given a forwarding address for the Dursleys. They wanted the money deposited into a checking account they set up at the local bank and that’s what we’ve been doing,” the brunette sitting behind the desk at the entrance to the agency explained carefully. “You could try talking to the bank, but they probably won’t give you any information – it’s considered privileged under law. Sorry, I know it isn’t much help, but that’s all I’m allowed to say on the matter.”

“Thank you for what you did tell us,” Kingsley said with a polite smile, grateful to at least have another lead to finding Harry, no matter how nebulous it was. It was unlikely that a bank would give out one of their customer’s addresses to anyone, even the federal government, without a really good reason and finding a kid who “ran away” wouldn’t be considered a good reason. There really wasn’t a way to fudge the motive without resorting to immoral means, such as using Imperious or Legilimency on Muggles.

The bank was three doors down and Kingsley entered first, making sure to approach the youngest teller carefully. He cautiously tried a new explanation for their investigation, hoping that Muggle banks were similar to Gringotts when it came to debts. The Goblins were vicious when it came to collecting their money and would go to almost any length in order to recoup their debts. He didn’t think the back would be that persistent, but maybe they’d help a fellow debt collector find some of their clients. It was worth a shot at least.

“We’re trying to bill the Dursleys for their credit card, but we keep getting all of our letters returned to us. The real estate agency told us that they were depositing the house payments here and we were wondering if it was possible to get the Dursleys’ address from you. We’d hate to get the federal government involved when the whole thing might just be a misunderstanding,” the tall man said, the lie obvious to all three wizards, but relatively convincing to the young woman behind the counter.

“We’ve got them living in British Columbia, which is in Canada,” the girl told him quietly, to ensure her supervisor wouldn’t be able to overhear. “That’s all I can tell you.”

Kingsley flashed her smile and a quick word of thanks before leaving the bank to rejoin the two witches standing outside.

“According to their records, the Dursleys moved to Canada,” the tall man told his companions as they walked away from the real estate agency.

“There’s no way I can apparate to Canada,” was Tonk’s first response to the information. She knew she didn’t have the power or the control to make it all the way across the ocean without splinching herself into pieces and she wasn’t exactly eager to prove that fact. Not that she didn’t want to find Harry, but getting herself killed in the process wouldn’t help anyone.

Kingsley aimed a reassuring smile at Tonks from over his shoulder before beginning to speak. “We won’t be required to go overseas – mainly because none of us could make it without a portkey – so all we need to do is tell Albus what we found and he can take it from there. He should be at Hogwarts like normal, so that’s where we’re headed.”

The witches and wizards quickly found an out of the way location and apparated to the edge of Hogwarts’ wards before walking through the large doors and navigating to the Headmaster’s office. The gargoyle jumped to the side quickly and Kingsley preceded the two witches up the revolving stairs. Dumbledore welcomed them into the office promptly and the three easily sat down in the comfy chairs in front of the desk.

“We know they’re somewhere in Canada – British Columbia to be precise – but the people who have the information couldn’t tell us anything else,” Kingsley said as he started the report. 

“It’d take a while to search the entire province, so it looks like we’re out of luck for now,” Tonks continued with a pragmatic shrug. She wanted to find Harry, but she wasn’t going to break the law and use Legilimency on a Muggle unless she knew for sure that Harry was in danger. She was worried for him – and she’d defend him like family should – but she wasn’t going to Azkaban when Snape had confirmed that the Death Eaters didn’t have Harry and everyone knew that the Canadians didn’t give one whit about the politics of the British Wizarding World. In fact, they were famous for granting asylum to virtually anyone who asked; her cousin should have gone there for sanctuary instead of staying in Grimmauld Place.

“Well, why don’t I go and talk to the person and see if they’ll tell me anything more?” Albus said with the grandfatherly smile. “Kingsley, what are the apparition coordinates?”

Tonks muffled her snort at the Headmaster’s words – she really didn’t think that the aging wizard would get further with the pretty receptionist at the bank than Kingsley did, but it was his time to waste.

“We’ll meet again in three days,” Albus said magnanimously after receiving the coordinates. He sat back in his chair calmly in order to watch his Order members leave the room. He was going to have to plan the next few days carefully, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find the Dursleys with a little help from some of his favorite trinkets.

.~.~.~.

Kiran had spent the last few days reading books on Mind Arts, Occlumency, meditation, magic, and everything under the sun that Remus could find to help him access his mindscape. The werewolf had pretty much barricaded the teen in the tent and told him not to leave until he came back. It was sort of annoying that Remus wouldn’t tell him why he was supposed to stay in the tent, but the younger wizard decided to listen to him for a couple days before venturing outside, peripherally noticing that Remus looked a little more haggard than usual.

The young heir reread Minds and their Methods twice more and went through the books Snape should have recommended – Clearing Your Mind, Connecting to Your Mind, Protecting Your Mind – but the only thing he could conclusively state was that magic had a large impact on mindscapes. The books had made it clear that his magic could block access to his mindscape if it wasn’t orderly and in control. The young wizard assumed that his recent slew of inheritances had scrambled some of his magic; not enough to stop him from using magic with his wand, but evidently enough to block access to his mindscape.

Kiran moved onto the books Remus had set aside that dealt with magic, reading the school-recommended Looking at Magic Auras and Exploring Your Magic for basic information on sorting out his magic before slugging his way through nine volumes of Decoding Your Aura and twelve volumes of Deciphering Your Magic for a more in-depth analysis of the subject. He ignored the other titles in the series because he didn’t really need to know about his talents or gifts, just about his magic in order to gain access to his mindscape without freezing to death. Maybe organizing his magic could stop that crazy blizzard? The snowstorm would be useful to keep other people out but it was just a pain when it prevented him from accessing his mind.

For now it didn’t really matter what the books suggested as he promised he wouldn’t try it out without Remus present to make sure he didn’t get lost in his magic or his mindscape. The Alpha was still spending whole days outside dealing with what Kiran presumed was Pack business and the young wizard hadn’t seen his guardian in days. The younger male didn’t even know why Remus had been so obsessed with him learning Occlumency when it was Runes that would get Sirius out of the Veil. He’d gone along with the werewolf’s suggestions, but now that Kiran couldn’t do anything else with the Mind Arts he was going to start learning about Runes.

Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms* was the book he’d seen Hermione carrying around when she first started Runes in third year so he started with that one and began to learn about Elder Futhark Runes and their applications. He finished reading that book without trying out any of the recommended exercises and moved onto the other books he’d seen Hermione with – Ancient Runes Translation* – which thankfully talked about some of the more interesting Runic dialects, but didn’t go into too much detail, instead focusing on the different meanings of all the Runes in Eldar Futhark. While he was reading he doodled a couple of the Runes in the book and added a few arbitrary lines to them until the grouping looked right, but didn’t try to form any Runic constructs according to the rules in the book. It hadn’t been a bad read, but he wanted to learn about the different runic languages so he could get started on understanding Runes Lost in Time and figuring out the symbols he saw pulsing on the Veil when Sirius fell through it.

He stumbled his way through The Language of Runes and The Runic Language and Its Dialects with the help of the Runic Dictionary and the Compendium of Runes. It took a while, but the young heir learned that there were ten different Runic languages – and Ogham, which looked like Runes but really wasn’t – but that wizards generally didn’t use anything other than Elder Futhark because it was the most powerful type of Runes. The differences between the ten Runic languages were just small deviations in certain symbols, but it could be dangerous to deal with combinations of the different types of Runes because one had to determine what language the Runes came from before it was possible to determine what they were intended to do and how to deal with them. Kiran guessed that the Veil was a combination of several types of Runes, but at least one of them couldn’t have been used in the creation of the Veil due to the fact that the language only began to be used after the British took the Veil in 1240. He didn’t even try to take a look at the 16 volumes of Runic Dialects that came from one of his vaults knowing it would only confuse him more. Trying to understand Runes Lost in Time was still a hopeless cause until he knew more about applying Runes, so Kiran went back to studying Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms* until Remus finally came home and interrupted his reading. 

The Alpha staggered into the tent and virtually collapsed on one of Kiran’s couches before looking over at his cub and frowning in thought. Remus wasn’t very happy that the younger male was reading a Runes book when he should be focusing on defending his mind.

“Kiran, I know you want to dive into studying runes – hell, that’s what I want you to do too,” the werewolf told his companion, “but you need to work on Defense before anything else. You’ll get killed at K’ver before you even start classes if you can’t defend yourself. The school’s famous across the world for three things: indifferent faculty, hard classes and killing students; there’s no way I’m letting you leave the Pack before I know you can defend yourself. If you know how to protect your mind you can keep most of the vampires and demons out of it and we’ll get you some practice with physical the physical and magical side of defense as soon as possible.”

“Remus, I can’t get any practice if you don’t let me out of the tent,” Kiran replied as he set down his book. “You won’t let me practice the Mind Arts unless you’re present, but you’re never home and there’s nothing else for me to do besides read about other subjects. I can’t get practice in offensive or defensive magic if I don’t have anyone to practice with or duel against. Why can’t I spend some time with the teens I met when the Pack accepted me? They seemed nice enough.”

“Now that the full moon’s over, it’s fine for you to leave the tent.” Remus grimaced. “It isn’t safe for you to mingle with the Pack on the days right before the full moon, so I want you to stay in the tent then. If you want, you can go looking for the weres you met the night of the Pack Introduction tomorrow morning – they shouldn’t mind the company. It’ll be good practice for dealing with werewolves at K’ver, but be careful of any of the more aggressive wolves and try not to antagonize them. Don’t worry if one of the kids asks you to practice with them, but no matter what don’t let them Challenge you to anything.”

“Okay.” Kiran dismissed the fact he didn’t know what a Challenge was in favor of the guilt he felt about not noticing that the full moon was coming up and that was why Remus had looked so haggard lately. It also explained why the werewolf had spent so much time away from the tent. 

The wizard hadn’t really been annoyed that it seemed like Remus was ignoring him to deal with Pack duties; he was preoccupied with being trapped inside the tent with nothing to do besides read. Kiran was used to spending a relatively large percentage of his time outside since before he was four. Despite the fact that the Dursleys locked him up in the cupboard under the stairs for days at a time when they felt he had misbehaved, he’d still had a lot of outdoor chores to complete and the small park near the house had been a good place to spend the day away from his relatives. When he’d arrived at Hogwarts they had Herbology and flying lessons, not to mention open access to the grounds – and later on Hagrid’s unique version of Care of Magical Creatures – to satisfy his need to spend time outside. Since Sirius had died he’d spent virtually all day, every day, inside some type of building – with the exception of his first day with the Pack when he’d witnessed Remus’ fight with the bastard who’d squeezed his ass – and he wanted to go outside and see the sky again. He never minded reading for school or working on his homework, but he needed to balance it with time spent outside in order not to go crazy. That was the real reason he never really joined Hermione on her library study binges, not an aversion to studying like the bushy haired girl sometimes suggested.

“Are you staying in for the rest of the night?” Kiran asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“I’m not going out again for the rest of the night, so it’s safe for you to practice accessing your mindscape again,” Remus told his cub with a slow smile. He knew Kiran had probably been impatient to gain entry his mindscape again after reading so many books on the subject, but thankfully it seemed like the younger male had restrained himself from trying until the werewolf was present once more.

The younger wizard gave an excited nod and settled down on the couch, making sure that he was comfortable and he wouldn’t be coming back to limbs that had fallen asleep while he was in his mind. This time instead of heading towards the snowstorm that was his mind, Kiran tried to seek out his magic like the books on the Mind Arts had suggested but wasn’t having any success. He was looking for the warm feeling he felt when he first received his phoenix feather wand – and couldn’t find a trace of it – before he realized that he needed to search for something similar to the way he felt when he got his new wand, not his old one. Kiran found traces of the feeling and followed it down to what looked like a snarled ball of multicolored yarn.

The young wizard stared at his core for a while, a little confused why it was in the form of tangled strings instead of the more traditional smooth sphere that all of the books had mentioned. Most of it was a beautiful misty, almost transparent gray that the books had said was normal for unaligned magic, but Kiran could see very small streaks of varying shades of green, blue and purple near each other, while a large collection of black threats shot through with different colors twined around a bloody red streak in a different part of the mess. 

He knew darker colors often represented darker magics, but he couldn’t remember what each color meant, although he was slightly cheered up by the fact that there were some bright and pastel colors in his core; at least part of his core was aligned with either light or neutral magic. There wasn’t a good balance between the lighter and darker magics and the young wizard was sure that he was supposed to have relatively separate colors, not merged ones, which meant there could be a problem with his magic. At the very least, he should try to separate the colors himself, to see if it could be done, before he told Remus that his magic was having problems. Or that his magic seemed obsessed with the darker arts. Could those threads be blocking the lighter threads?

Very carefully Kiran began to sort the black strands away from the lighter colors, but was suddenly jerked back to consciousness to find Remus looking worriedly at him with Syanth hovering nearby. 

Both of the werewolves gave a sigh of relief when the smaller boy’s eyes finally opened. The Alpha had called his Shaman an hour after Kiran had closed his eyes, as the male werewolf couldn’t get the boy to wake up. Remus had tried submerging him in both cold and hot water, but neither attempt worked for the werewolf this time. 

Once the healer arrived, the two wolves had spent three hours trying to get Kiran to open his eyes, using everything from gentle tickling charms to sharply pricking his fingers with needles, freezing ice baths to pungent smelling salts, the leaves of the deadly nightshade to the dangerous aconite herb commonly known as wolfsbane. Nothing had worked until Remus had desperately resorted to trying to call Kiran back using his own magic and the boy had immediately returned to consciousness.

Remus reached down and hugged his cub, relieved that the smaller male hadn’t gotten lost in his own magic like they had feared. It wasn’t unheard of for younglings to go looking for their magical core and get lost forever trying to find it or get so absorbed in their core that they never returned. People who were trapped within their own magic acted like Muggle coma patients and the Alpha wouldn’t have been able to bear seeing his cub like that – the grief of losing Kiran so soon after losing Sirius would have driven him out of his mind.

The werewolf eventually let his cub go only to settle beside him on the couch as Syanth checked Kiran over for injuries or problems. Thankfully the smaller male seemed to be perfectly fine and the Shaman confirmed the fact before retiring to her own tent for the night.

Once the healer had left, Kiran turned towards his guardian and curiously asked a question. “Is there a reason why my magical core isn’t a smooth sphere like the books say it should be?”

“What exactly do you mean, Kiran?” the werewolf asked cautiously. He was a little worried that his cub was saying that his core was broken or ragged, both of which were dangerous for wizards and viable possibilities for Harry due to the Dark Lord’s Avada Kedavra. In surviving the Killing Curse his core might have been split or damaged in some way and Remus had heard horror stories about wizards with problems in their magical cores that made them insane killers, crazy mental patients, or comatose bodies.

“My core seems to be made up of multicolored threads that twine around each other, instead of a smooth sphere with different colored parts like the books suggest. They’re all tangled together; if I separated the colors and bunched them together in groups, do you think they would smooth into a sphere?” Kiran explained, carefully describing what he’d seen.

“I’m not really sure,” Remus prevaricated as he thought about what the younger wizard was saying. “Magical theory with relation to a person’s magical core really isn’t my specialty – I know a lot more about the more applicable magics and the theory related to them – but you might want to look into visiting a Healer when you reach K’ver if your core hasn’t settled down by the time you turn sixteen. Actually, considering how many different Houses and Families are probably going to be influencing you on your birthday, we should wait until after you go see Ollivander for a new wand before we make an appointment with a Healer.”

“Does that mean that I can’t try and untangle the threads? And what do you mean by Houses and Families influencing me on my birthday?” the younger male asked curiously.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t hurt to separate the colors as long as you’re careful and make sure not to harm your core in any way shape or form. Experimenting with or looking at your magical core comes under the same heading as exploring your mindscape: you’re not allowed to do it unless I’m there to help mitigate any problems you might encounter,” Remus stated firmly. 

“As for your second question,” the Alpha continued, “powerful wizards – and yes, Kiran, you definitely qualify considering your Patronus – or those that are going to be inheriting from a multitude of families often go through a three-stage Coming of Age. The first part starts on your sixteenth birthday and reoccurs on your birthday for the next two years, generally resulting in power boosts or the unveiling of new talents. Those with a large Inheritance have their gifts spread out over time so it is easier to learn control over them. Some of the resulting power ups can create quite a light show and some Inheritances have been known to blow wards to pieces if they weren’t prepared for properly or the wizard felt threatened during their Coming of Age. Yours should be quite interesting considering your heritage and your power levels, so we’ll need to start preparing for it when your birthday gets closer.”

Kiran hummed in reply as he settled back in his chair to think about what Remus said for a couple of minutes before asking his Guardian another question. “Can I go take another look at my core without you panicking and calling Syanth again or is that out for the night?”

“It’s out for the night, mostly because I think you wouldn’t get much sleep if you did that and you’ll probably want as much sleep as possible before you meet the Pack teens tomorrow. In the morning they’ll be in a clearing about four over from here to relax and talk before their lessons, so that would be the best time for you to re-introduce yourself to them,” the werewolf said with a chuckle as he tried to hide his unease with the idea of his cub messing around with his magical core so soon after the earlier scare.

“Okay,” the teen replied, his tone vacillating between being disappointed that he couldn’t take another look at his core tonight and excited about seeing the other teens tomorrow morning after his accidental isolation over the past few days.

“Why don’t you go to bed and let your mind calm down for the night? I’ll tell you how to get to the clearing in the morning,” Remus suggested carefully, easily reading the creeping signs of exhaustion present in Kiran’s body language.

“That sounds good,” the wizard replied with a yawn, the exertion of exploring his magic finally registering in his mind and making his limbs heavy with sleep. 

The boy seemed to virtually stagger into his room, and when Remus checked on him a few minutes later, he was asleep on top of his covers and curled up adorably amid some of the extra pillows and blankets. The werewolf gave a soft smile as he covered his cub with a blanket and left the room so he could compose a missive to the Otis Pack of Eastern Europe without disturbing Kiran’s rest.

The large peridot that the Pack had gotten from Kiran was the last gift and would be sent off with the letter early tomorrow morning while his cub was meeting new friends. The Alpha really didn’t want the younger wizard getting involved in the negotiations, despite his generous gift of the gems, because treaties between the Packs could get bloody with little to no warning. Kiran didn’t know how to properly defend himself against a werewolf his own age, much less the full-grown, battle-experienced wolves that would be present at the treaty meetings, so Remus had simply decided that the boy wouldn’t be attending. Yes the negotiations were going well, but they could turn problematic at a minute’s notice and it was likely that Remus would have to fight the Otis Pack Alpha in order to determine how the packs would relate to each other. It wouldn’t be a fight to the death, but Remus still didn’t want his charge in attendance. 

The werewolf also needed to pen a letter to the French Veela that Fenrir had antagonized during his short tenure as Pack Alpha. He’d send a smaller gem – one that hadn’t been given to the Otis Pack for the peace treaty – along with the letter as a token of good will. Hopefully the Veela Enclave would respond favorably and initiate correspondence that would lead to an eventual peace treaty. Ultimately Remus knew he’d have to visit the Enclave to sign the treaty – he’d take Kiran with him if his cub wasn’t at K’ver by then – because it wasn’t likely that the Veela would trust the Pack enough to visit Pack lands and treaties had to be signed in person by group leaders to be considered binding. It was going to be a long night.

.~.~.~.

The next morning Kiran walked towards the clearing where Remus had told him the younger werewolves were hanging out and cautiously entered the open area, pausing at the edge in order to look around. He could see a couple of similar looking guys wrestling on the forest floor with several other weres standing nearby watching the fight. The young wizard could barely hear the small group commenting on the actions of the fighting wolves. The teenager’s perusal of the clearing was interrupted as a muscular blonde male walked up to him and blocked his view.

“I’m Jurgen,” the dirty blonde boy said with an odd smile as tried to slip an arm over Kiran’s shoulder. The wizard wasn’t exactly sure what the werewolf was up to with that smile, but he didn’t really want to wait around and find out. Kiran took a quick look around the clearing, hoping to find someone he had previously been introduced to.

The smaller boy unknowingly avoided the contact with Jurgen’s arm when he spotted a wolf he actually knew. The distinctive reddish orange hair of the werewolf he’d been talking to about dragons on the night of his Pack Initiation stood out clearly and Kiran moved towards the other male quickly. Jurgen stifled a frown at the other boy’s actions before moving towards the small group of weres watching the two twins practice their fighting techniques on each other.

The redhead looked up when he heard approaching footsteps and saw Kiran approaching his small group. The taller male nudged the two girls he was sitting with so they would look up from their discussion and pay attention to their new addition.

“Hey, Kiran,” the redhead said with a broad smile. “In case you don’t remember, I’m Reid and these two beautiful ladies are Betony and Diantha.”

Kiran returned their waves with a shy hello, noticing the pure length of Betony’s hair as the rich brown strands coiled around her form on the forest floor. He got a quick look at the tight coil of Diantha’s honey-colored braid when she turned to talk to Reid before the wizard was drawn into their conversation. Kiran sat down near Reid and the four of them spent almost thirty minutes talking about dragon handling before their discussion moved on to analyzing the strengths and weakness of the more common flying magical creatures.

“Griffins are good in battle –” Diantha started to say before she was interrupted.

“Gargoyles can do more damage,” the dirty blonde werewolf from earlier said as he settled down next to Reid and angled his body towards Kiran.

“They’re too sturdy for anything other than cannon fodder. Djinn, on the other hand, can inflict unparalleled levels of damage,” another male with long hair said as he calmly arranged himself next to Betony, taking special care to avoid damaging the brunette’s long hair.

“Djinn are useful for large, solitary hits, but wishing becomes a hindrance in battle and Djinn are notorious for twisting people’s desires,” another were with mahogany hair tied back with a small piece of leather said clearly before catching Kiran’s curious gaze and taking the time to introduce himself.

“Trystan, alpha 2, and my blood brother Killian, alpha 3,” the taller male said as he gestured to himself and the slighter shorter were with spiky reddish-black at his left shoulder. Killian nodded in recognition of the introduction but didn’t actually say anything. Kiran nodded back at the stoic boy that reminded him of Victor Krum but the two twins caught his eye as they introduced themselves.

“Caddock – you met me on Initiation night – and my twin –”

“Cadell. We both like to fight,” the were that advocated the use of swords in battle finished for his twin, the two of them waving cheerfully at Kiran from where they leaned against a nearby tree.

The wizarding heir smiled at the two weres that seemed like a more vicious and battle-oriented version of Gred and Forge Weasley. The two redheaded twins were more focused on pranks than anything else and these blondes were definitely bloodthirsty, but Kiran attributed that to the fact that they were werewolves. A large part of their society was the physical struggle for power and position, so desiring battle was a good thing for a werewolf as long as they didn’t cause strife in the Tribe or Pack due to their attitude.

“And Djinn don’t really have wings, Nolan, so they don’t count for this particular argument,” Reid said with casual hand wave, redirecting the groups towards the earlier conversation before turning to Betony and asking her opinion.

“I’m not really sure, but –” the long-haired girl began to say before being interrupted.

“I like Firebirds,” a pretty girl said as she primly sat down next to Betony and carelessly interjected her own words into their conversation.

“The entire purpose of firebirds is to ignite fires and they see no difference between your supplies and the supplies of your enemies, Giselle,” Trystan said with a subtle frown as he looked over at the immaculate female werewolf.

“Yes, but they’re pretty and that’s all that really matters,” the bleached blonde replied firmly as she carefully smoothed her skirts.

“Remind me never to ask for you in a battle squad,” one of the twins lowly murmured to the other from behind Trystan. “Having you would be worse than missing a person.”

The girl in question simply sniffed at the comment and directed her attention to the green-eyed teen instead. “So what do you think, Kiran?” She gave an interested smile as she leaned forward, her body position demonstrating both her availability and her generously displayed attributes.

“I’m in favor of Hippogriffs.” Kiran said with a self-conscious smile as he leaned away from the girl. “They’re not as strong as some creatures, but they’re more maneuverable and their claws look like they could create some devastating damage in battle.”

“Hippogriffs are technically classified as the most dangerous flying magical creatures in battle due to their speed, maneuverability, claws, beaks, and loyalty. Dragons are generally too hard to control in open warfare – same for their subspecies and offshoots – while Griffins can’t switch between land and air very quickly or even very well,” Reid said with a quirky smile. “Hippogriffs are generally easier to manage than Griffins too.”

“It was smart of you to choose them,” the airhead blonde said ingratiatingly as she smiled at Kiran and rudely reached over several other wolves in order to pat his arm.

The wizarding heir looked at her oddly – Kiran hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls and this one was nothing like Hermione or Ginny – and promptly decided to change the subject before she tried to touch him again. She wasn’t a friend, so in Kiran’s mind she really shouldn’t be trying to initiate contact between them. He’d always been fine with touching friends, but if he didn’t know someone – or wasn’t close to them – Kiran refused to physically interact with them in a way that would imply a closer relationship than actually existed. It was something he knew was left over from the Dursleys because they had never touched him in kindness, only anger, so he began to automatically associate the touches of people who weren’t friends with pain. Kiran didn’t like to be touched unless he both knew the person and considered them a friend, so finding a new topic was of paramount importance before the prissy blonde girl tried to touch him again and annoyed him in the process.

“So you’re going to be taking Magical Creature class at K’ver, Reid?” Kiran asked his companion, curious if he would have any classes with the congenial redhead or maybe some of the nicer wolves. He was sure some of them were older than he was and therefore wouldn’t be in his classes, but some of the younger wolves might be in some of the required ones with him.

“Nah, none of us here have the power for it,” Reid responded easily. “We’ll spend the next couple of years at devotional or trade schools; K’ver’s really only for the absurdly powerful, the suicidal, the ambitious, or the geniuses.” 

“Pretty much you only risk going to K’ver if you’re either desperate to make connections or you can’t learn something anywhere else,” Betony continued softly. “A lot of the really powerful Masters won’t take apprentices unless they’ve graduated from K’ver because it takes too long to teach them all of the basics and they’d basically be useless for the first eight years.”

“I know a couple of the Italian, French, British, and Spanish Tribes had students going,” one of the other wolves volunteered, “but those Tribes headed home right after your Initiation so you can’t really meet them –”

“I’m certain that any of the Enzo wolves currently attending K’ver were unable to attend the Initiation,” Trystan finished firmly as he flicked a glance at the previous speaker.

“Oh,” Kiran responded, a little embarrassed about how little he knew about life outside the Wizarding World. He’d assumed K’ver was sort of like Hogwarts in that everyone who even had the least talent at the time of enrollment – like Neville in first year – was accepted and either grew into their power – Neville again – or simply ended up as a corpse. The wizarding heir hadn’t known that there were trade specific schools and had been looking forward to making friends within the Pack so he’d know someone when he went to K’ver. 

Even if they weren’t going to be at school with him, Kiran wanted to make friends with the wolves anyway. He’d still be spending the rest of the summer – and all of K’ver’s breaks –with the Pack and being cooped up in his tent the whole time didn’t sound like fun. If he didn’t have the chance to get outside and interact with people on a semi-normal basis, he was going to go crazy.

“I’m going to K’ver,” the wizard admitted warily, now fully aware of what the people surrounding him thought of the school. He wanted someone to spend time with this summer besides Remus but he wasn’t going to lie to get it.

“So which one are you?” one of the twins asked as he stepped away from the tree that the siblings had been leaning against, his brother easily following him.

“Which one of what?” Kiran gave a bewildered frown. These twins weren’t quite as bad as Fred and George, but they were confusing in their own way. 

“Are you absurdly powerful, suicidal, ambitious, or a genius?” 

“I’d say I’m more desperate than anything else,” Kiran replied as his mouth twisted wryly. “It’s the only place that can teach me how to get Sirius back.”

“Who’s Sirius?” Diantha asked curiously. It could be a lover or a best friend, maybe a family member or a guardian, but whoever it was would have to be pretty important to the green-eyed male if he willing to risk going to K’ver in order to get him back. All the werewolves knew about people who had gone to K’ver and hadn’t come back; it was basically a fact of life that that people didn’t go the school unless they were willing to risk everything, up to and including their soul, to achieve their goal.

“My father and Remus’ mate,” Kiran replied, sadness coloring his tone and visible in his expressive green eyes. “He’s trapped somewhere in an old artifact and only K’ver teaches the subjects that can get him out, so that’s where I’m going.”

“Best of luck,” Trystan said with a nod.

“You’ll need it!” the twins continued with one voice.

“How do you plan on defending yourself?” Betony asked carefully, a little worried about what their Alpha would do if his cub ended up dead within his first few weeks at K’ver.

“I’ve got my magic,” Kiran said slowly, peripherally aware that everyone around him was stronger than him, even the girls, purely because they were werewolves and he wasn’t.

“Not gonna be any help when you’re facing one of us, a demon, or even one of the vampires,” Reid said practically. “It’s like trying to make flobberworms fight Hippogriffs – they’re going to lose every time. Not that you can’t try to win or that you might win occasionally from luck, but generally you’re going to get squished.”

“Would you like to practice?” Jurgen said, something odd present in his words that Kiran couldn’t quite decipher but definitely didn’t like. 

“We have practice now,” Trystan said clearly as he got up and swept a commanding stare over the group. The werewolves all averted their eyes as they followed his lead and rose to their feet until everyone in the clearing except Kiran was standing.

“You’re welcome to come again tomorrow,” Trystan added with a nod as he passed the human teen on his way out of the clearing.

Several other wolves gave their goodbyes to Kiran, but Reid was the only one to actually talk to the wizard before he left.

“I can help you practice tomorrow, if you want to learn how to fight a werewolf physically,” the redhead said with a smile before loping off after everyone else.

Kiran watched them leave before heading back to his own tent to find a large raptor mantling on one of his test posts. The huge thing was almost completely black in color, only the glimpses the wizard managed to get of the underside edges of the bird’s wings showed that they were a striated dark brown instead of black. The dark eyes were piercing as they looked out over a sharp beak and seemed to direct the young male’s attention towards the bundle attached above the bird’s dangerous talons.

The teen was surprised that a bird had found him because he wasn’t recognizable as Harry Potter anymore, or Hedwig would have found him already, and Kiran didn’t know anyone who wasn’t a part of the Pack. He carefully inched forward to see if he could make out the writing on the parchment and was surprised to see “Lord Black” written on the envelope in beautiful cursive.

Now fairly certain that the package was meant for him, Kiran cautiously approached the bird and removed the bundle of parchment, but the bird took off before the wizard could offer it any refreshment. The dark-haired boy shrugged at the raptor’s behavior and calmly entered his tent, placing the bundle on a couch in his living room before making his way towards the kitchen for some food.

Once he had consumed lunch, Kiran returned to his living room and untied the bundle so he could figure out what was inside. The wizard looked at the pile of magazines underneath the fine parchment of the letter before setting them aside and opening the delicate paper to read.

.~.~.~.

My Lord Black,

House Malfoy hopes this letter finds you in good health and desires to extend a hand of friendship to House Black in these troubling times. The House of Malfoy formally offers its condolences on the death of the previous Lord Black. We hope you know that the actions of the House Patriarch that placed him at the scene of Lord Black’s death were unsanctioned by the whole of House Malfoy. The Malfoy Family humbly requests that the Rites be waived and offers a gift from any of the accompanying catalogs as an example of good faith between us. We propose an alliance between our two Houses and ask your careful consideration of our words. We would be able to protect each other in the traditions of the Old Blood, as is proper for two such noble Families. May you prosper under the Old Ways as House Black has for centuries.

Blessings upon the Ancient and Noble House of Black,

Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black

.~.~.~.

Kiran looked puzzled at the letter’s contents and cocked his head to the side consideringly. What did Narcissa mean by ‘the Rites?’ And why in the world would he waive them for Lucius bloody Malfoy? It wasn’t like Kiran was poor – he could buy anything he wanted from those catalogs himself – but even if he didn’t have the money, he wouldn’t have accepted the offer from the woman whose husband had been one of the reasons for Sirius death. Kiran was betting that there was some sort of trick in the letter because there was no way that someone like Mrs. Malfoy would let an opportunity like this slip by her without trying to get some advantage out of it.

The wizarding heir made a mental note to ask Remus about the Rites when he came home and spent the next couple of hours thinking about his mindscape while absently flipping through the catalogs that accompanied the letter. There was some pretty cool stuff in there, but he wasn’t really interested in buying any of it for himself. He’d inherited enough random stuff from the vaults, not to mention the miscellaneous things he’d bought on that shopping trip with Remus. 

Besides, his mindscape was simply more interesting and thought provoking than the magazines. The snow had calmed down slightly since he discovered his magic core, but he assumed that the tangled state of his magic had a lot to do with the whirling snow flurries he’d found in his mind. He couldn’t wait to see what his mindscape actually looked like once the snow either calmed down or stopped, but it looked like he’d have to put off exploring until he had his magic under further control. Well, not further control as he didn’t really know what some of those colors he’d seen meant, but he at least needed to make his magic more ordered before he could get a proper look at his mindscape. He had a lot more untangling to do before the magic strands in his core would stop automatically twining around each other and forming large snarls as they met other strands of magic.

Kiran set the magazines to the side so he could go over and pull out the books about magic and the Mind Arts that he had looked over earlier that week. The teen slowly meandered back toward his seat as he flipped through one of the books, eventually settling down on a closer couch as he got involved in trying to understand what the colors he’d seen in his magical core actually meant. 

Kiran finally rediscovered a small chart in one of the books that listed the general color associated with different types of magic. He was right that the dark colors he’d seen in his magical core meant that a relatively large portion of his magic was aligned with the darker and more dangerous aspects of magic – something that would probably be useful at K’ver but did nothing to help him free Sirius. The book listed black as one of the main colors used to represent Death Magic, the Dark Arts, Demon Magic, and the Mind Arts. With how unruly his mindscape was, he didn’t really think that his magic was aligned with the Mind Arts, but Death Magic and the Dark Arts were a viable possibility considering what he’d seen in the Inheritance Chamber and the documented history of Sirius’ family. 

That dark red color – almost the color of blood – that he’d seen in his core probably had something to do with the Kyros Family – after all, that Family’s ritual had filled the Inheritance Chamber with blood and it wasn’t likely that the dark red represented either Sex Magic or Vampire Magic. 

Kiran was a little disappointed that he had found such small amounts of lighter colored magics in his core because he wanted to learn about more than just destructive magics. Besides, such harmful magics wouldn’t help him rescue Sirius. At least there were several different possibilities for which type of magic the different shades of colors could represent, which meant that he could possibly have several of the magics represented by the color, even if it wasn’t very likely to happen.

The different blues could represent Summoning, Elemental Water Magic, or Runic Magic, but Kiran was betting that it wasn’t Water Magic after he’d seen such fantastical creatures in the Taliesin Inheritance Ritual and the floating Runes in the Wilhelm Inheritance Ritual.

The greens could be Terraforming Magic, Nature Magic, Elven Magic or Healing Magic, but the wizard really didn’t think that he had any magic aligned towards those ideas, so he wasn’t sure why there was green floating around in his core. Maybe he’d manifest one of the talents later, but for now the reason for the green threads was pretty much a mystery to Kiran. The purple supposedly had to do with Thread Magic, but that was also a talent that hadn’t manifested yet and Kiran was relatively sure that the purple really was a secondary color for a magic type, but sadly the chart didn’t contain the second color affiliated with each type of magic. 

The wizarding heir spent the next couple of hours combing through his magic books trying to figure out exactly what type of magic was resting in his core so he’d know what to expect in the future with regard to his strengths, but wasn’t having much luck. Kiran finally looked up from his reading material when he heard the tent open and decided to wait until Remus entered his living room before asking the werewolf the question that had been bouncing around in his head for the past few hours.

“Remus, what are the Rites?” Kiran asked his guardian curiously as the Alpha came into the sitting room and looked for a place to sit down.

“They’re the combined equivalent of a rulebook and code of honor for purebloods that cover situations ranging from Honor Duels and the rules of revenge through tithes and funeral rites. Why do you want to know?” the werewolf replied as he toed off his boots and relaxed on a nearby couch. It was odd for the wizarding heir to be asking about something like that when Remus was pretty sure that Kiran hadn’t ever been told about the Rites.

“Malfoy’s mom wants me to waive them as Lord Black with regard to her husband’s role in Sirius’ death,” the younger male replied absently as he turned his attention back to his book.

“What?!” Remus exclaimed as he lurched forward from his relaxed position and startled Kiran into dropping his book to the floor.

“Tell me you didn’t accept her offer,” the Alpha said as he grabbed his cub’s shoulders. Remus hadn’t thought about it because the werewolf wasn’t a pureblood and the Rites didn’t apply to him. But now that Lady Malfoy had brought the subject up, there were quite a few things that Kiran could do, both as a pureblood and as Lord Black, that could benefit him and cause problems for the Malfoys. If he remembered right, there was also something his cub could do to contact and reward the people who had helped him on the night Sirius died.

“Of course not!” Kiran replied, a little affronted that Remus thought he was that gullible. Yes, he had believed in a vision that had resulted in Sirius getting killed – he was going to fix that one way or another – but he’d never trusted Malfoy and there was no way he was going to trust anyone who was directly, or even indirectly, associated with the bleached blonde ferret.

“Good,” the werewolf said with a sigh as he let go of his charge’s shoulders and almost seemed to collapse back in his seat. That could have been disastrous, but thankfully Kiran didn’t seem to trust the Malfoys – and he had good reason for it considering the behavior Remus had seen between Draco and Harry in third year. Those two would never be friends unless one of them had a change of heart, but they might be able to form an alliance once they were more mature. 

“If you had waived the Rites with regard to Malfoy, it would have meant that you waived the Rites forever for the Malfoy Family, meaning you couldn’t extract revenge or demand compensation according to Rites for the rest of your life,” Remus tried to explain his extreme reaction to Kiran’s earlier statement. It was clear the boy didn’t understand why he had reacted like that and Kiran needed at least a preliminary understanding of the Rites in order to function in pureblood society. Besides, it would allow the younger wizard to subtly pass a message to his friends and Kiran would need that contact while he was at K’ver.

“You can demand retribution from them in the form of money, artifacts, a boon to be granted at a later time, or, depending on the severity of the Family’s crime, a combination of the previous options. I’m not sure what exactly would be the limit for helping kill the previous Family Head, but it wouldn’t be small. For what Lucius did – and the fact that Bellatrix is Narcissa’s sister – you could probably declare a Wizard’s Debt with regard to both Draco and Narcissa.

“If you did that, it’s also likely that you could call for compensation from the Families of the Death Eaters that were at the Department of Mysteries that night. But if you follow the Rites that harshly in extracting vengeance for a Family death, then you also have to follow the strictest interpretation of the Rites in rewarding people who helped Harry and Sirius at the Department of Mysteries – and didn’t work for the Ministry – or whose inventions helped Harry that night,” Remus said as he tried to explain what he knew about the Rites. They had never applied to him, but James and Sirius had almost invoked them once or twice.

“If you take a heavy stance with regard to the Rites now, it doesn’t mean that you have to take such a harsh stance on the Rites every time, just that you have to balance both sides of the Rites. Meaning,” Remus held up a hand to prevent Kiran from interrupting him, “that you have to follow both sides of the rites – reward and punishment – with the same level of severity. Everyone who was against Sirius that night receives punishment and everyone who helped him is rewarded – even Dumbledore.”

“That’s doable,” Kiran said with a slow smile as he began to raise his wand. The bright-eyed male opened his mouth to begin the oath and paused in thought.

“So who all was actually there that night?” the smaller male said as he lowered his wand and looked over at Remus.

The werewolf simply looked at his charge and massaged his temples in exasperation. It was moments like these that reminded him why Harry had been a Gryffindor: he charged forward with whatever idea he got into his head and didn’t plan anything. It was how he ended up participating in so many misadventures as Harry Potter and how he was accepted into K’ver as Kiran – the boy simply didn’t think about what he was doing. He’d hoped that Kiran might have reconsidered his approach to things after Sirius’ death, but it seemed like the boy had been too busy over the past few weeks to consider how his actions had gotten Sirius trapped in the Veil. Not that Sirius wouldn’t have gotten himself in trouble sooner or later – it was in his nature to either find or create trouble and he had hated being trapped in 12 Grimmauld Place – but Harry’s incautious actions had been the start of the whole fiasco. 

The Alpha would try to teach the boy planning – thankfully Kiran had decided to research the Veil before trying to rescue Sirius, which meant he was learning – but that was something best learned through experience. Remus just hoped that Kiran would start to think ahead and consider the possible repercussions of his actions before he started K’ver, despite the fact that it wasn’t very likely to happen. He didn’t want his cub to get embroiled in some of the more dangerous thing at K’ver simply because the boy was charging ahead blindly. That would be disastrous – even worse than Harry’s adventures in Hogwarts and the ruinous event that had been the Triwizard Tournament.

“The Order estimates that there were twelve Death Eaters present and, well, Voldemort,” the werewolf replied as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well, we know Lucius was there – Narcissa pointed that out clearly – and Bellatrix’s roll in Sirius’ death is pretty obvious,” the younger male said as he thought out loud.

“And where Bella goes, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange follow, so they were there at the Ministry as well. And I know Kingsley was fighting Rookwood – he was missing his mask – and Moody lost to Dolohov. I don’t know who I was dueling, but they were pretty good…” the Alpha recounted.

“And I saw McNair’s face when Neville jammed Hermione’s wand into his eye, so that’s seven out of twelve – it’s not everyone, but it’s good enough to get the worst offenders and that’s all I really can ask for right now,” Kiran said with a shrug. He wanted all of them, but he wasn’t sure if the vengeance oath would work if he didn’t know the names of the people he was call vengeance on.

“You can try for the rest anyway,” Remus suggested calmly. The werewolf wasn’t sure what that would do to the oath for vengeance, but it probably couldn’t hurt – or at least it wouldn’t hurt Kiran. After all, most of the Death Eaters were determined to hurt or kill Kiran and that was a pretty valid reason to declare vengeance on any of them, so it wasn’t like his cub would be getting repercussions from unjustified oaths, and that was all the werewolf really cared about. If any problems came up, the marked sadists would have to deal with them and their preoccupation could only be good for the dark-haired boy.

Kiran wasn’t sure how the oath went, but he figured if he used as much information as possible, then the intent of it should work fine whether or not he used the traditional words. 

“I, Kiran Keir Faelan Wilhelm Black, successor to the deceased Lord Sirius Black and current Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, hereby call vengeance according to the Rites on the Death Eaters present in the Department of Mysteries or the Ministry of Magic on the night Sirius Black fell through the Veil and was declared legally dead, including but not limited to the Death Eaters present that night that are in the Families of Malfoy, Lestrange, Rookwood, Dolohov, or McNair. According to the Rites I demand compensation from the Families of the Death Eaters present that night in terms of a favor equivalent to a Wizard’s Debt, in full accordance with the Rites.” Kiran looked satisfied as the tip of his wand flashed red.

“Well, that takes of the vengeance side –” Remus started to say before the teen interrupted him by starting another oath.

“I, Kiran Keir Faelan Wilhelm Black, successor to the deceased Lord Sirius Black and current Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, hereby call vengeance according to the Rites on Tom Marvolo Riddle, for causing the circumstances that resulted in Sirius Black falling through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries within the Ministry of Magic and being declared legally dead.” The teen gave a vicious smile as his wand flashed once more.

“Now that you’re finished,” Remus looked at his cub indulgently, “you need to start figuring out who helped you that night and what you’ll be sending them as a reward. And remember – Harry Potter is dead, so you’re sending them as Kiran Wilhelm and you don’t know them. You can get them appropriate presents because I could have told you about them, but you can’t tell them that you are Harry Potter or even that the Boy-Who-Lived is still alive.”

“You don’t have to send the rewards today – you’ll need to send appropriate letters with them and that usually takes some time – but you’ll to figure out who was there and send everything soon,” the werewolf stated in between several yawns as he got up from the couch and stretched.

“I’m headed to bed,” Remus yawned again and moved towards his rooms. “I suggest you do the same if you plan to visit the other teens again.”

Kiran smiled in response and wished the older male pleasant dreams, pleased that the Alpha seemed to be ready to let him have more freedom. Remus had been exceedingly protective these past few weeks, but it seemed like the werewolf was finally ready to let the younger male make his own decisions and experience his own mistakes. He would be going to bed soon, but he was determined to figure out who he had to reward before he slipped off to bed.

Okay, Kiran knew that Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny had been there that night. Finding gifts for all of them wouldn’t be that hard, but he had also used Gred and Forge’s inventions against the Death Eaters, so he needed to send them some sort of gift as well…

Kiran knew Dumbledore had been there and so had Remus, but he didn’t really remember any other adults. The werewolf had mentioned that Kingsley and Moody had been there that night dueling Death Eaters and Kiran thought he remembered seeing a bright colored flash of hair somewhere, so it was likely that the metamorphagus – Tonks? – had been there as well. He’d figure out how to thank them tomorrow or the day after, but for now he was going to bed. He’d need his sleep if he was going to wrestle Reid tomorrow morning.


	8. Pointy End Down

Kiran wrestled with Reid on Monday morning – and boy had that been an experience he never wanted to repeat! Humans were not meant to take on werewolves in hand-to-hand combat – or anything even remotely similar. The redhead had tossed him around like a rag doll and Kiran had ended up with a multitude of bruises as a result. It wasn’t that Reid had purposely been rough with him because the other male had actually been quite careful, but werewolves were simply so much stronger than humans that bruises were inevitable. Reid had promised to keep practicing with Kiran until the younger male was more proficient at fighting, but he figured he was going to regret extracting that promise from the werewolf.

The wizarding heir made it back to his tent in passably decent shape and took a long soak in hot water as he thought about what to use as rewards for the Rites. They would have to be pretty impressive considering that he’d virtually demanded a Wizard’s Debt from the people he had called vengeance on, but it shouldn’t be too hard considering that either he or Remus knew everyone he was planning to reward. It wouldn’t take very long to think of a reward for his friends, but figuring out what to give the three Aurors and Dumbledore would take more thought.

Kiran was still unsure about what would be considered a suitable reward by the time he was finished soaking, so he settled down on one of the couches to gather ideas from the magazines Lady Malfoy had sent. There had to be something in the thick catalogues that could work as a gift – or at least be able to give him an idea of what was appropriate to give as a reward.

The wizard eventually settled on sending Hermione a large set of defense books she had been eyeing last year along with a smaller series of rune books he thought she might enjoy. Ginny was going to get a top-of-the-line broom and a practice snitch for Quidditch, with a highly-recommended book on dueling to complement her recent interest in the subject. Ron’s gift was similar – another top-of-the-line broom with keeper’s gear for Quidditch – but Kiran was having a hard time selecting a chess set he liked from the magazines.

Picking Ron’s third gift was set aside in favor of deciding on a duo of pretty flowering magical plants for Neville and an interesting-sounding book on the possibilities of interbreeding plants. The dark-haired boy figured Neville would enjoy that more than any more conventional gifts, but the only thing Kiran could think to get Luna was a Crumple-horned Snorkack and he had no idea where in the world he could find one of those.

The teen spent close to half an hour thinking about the subject before he remembered that he’d seen a variety of mythical creatures in the Taliesin Family Inheritance Ritual. Maybe one of the numerous volumes from that Vault had something about a Snorkack in it?

Three hours later Kiran had skimmed five volumes from the Vault, taking time to stop and actually read an interesting chapter on summoning Permanent Familiars. It sounded like a tradition for the Taliesin Family to summon Permanent Familiars before trying to summon anything else. In one memorable case a teen in the family had ended up with twelve baby summons, although an average of five or six Permanent Familiars was more common. The text emphasized that summoning anything before a Permanent Familiar simultaneously biased and limited the form of the Summoner’s future Familiars towards that of their first summon. Yes, it was true that the baby summons were a pain to deal with until they grew up, but using the suggested diagram to summon them was infinitely better than being limited to a small subset of all available summons. Kiran spent some time looking over the large Summoning diagram before advancing to other topics and eventually finding a page or two that he thought described the Crumple-horned Snorkack. 

If he had interpreted the odd mix of ancient prose and poetry correctly, then Snorkacks liked to roam around in what was now the Germanic Black Forest and were attracted to pieces of turquoise that had been enchanted with a certain spell. He had no idea why the creature would be attracted to blue stones enchanted with sparkling spells, but Luna would love to get her hands on the enchanted stone if it could find Snorkacks for her.

Luna didn’t care about traditionalism, so Kiran decided to send her a pre-packed backpack, a two-month cabin rental in Germany, and the enchanted piece of turquoise – she’d be ecstatic to finally see the creatures she’d been talking about for years. The cabin and the backpack were mostly for Luna’s benefit because the girl was likely to forget provisions and a place to stay in her excitement at finding a Snorkack. Kiran didn’t want anything to happen to the younger girl and thought she’d enjoy having everything but the portkey taken care of for the trip.

The only thing left on his list was Ron’s third gift and Kiran finally settled for sending a chess set from the magazines that he thought the red-head might enjoy because the board and pieces were enchanted to change themes according to the owner’s will. That way Ron would never be bored with his chess set – griffins versus basilisks, dragons versus giants, the Order of the Phoenix versus the Death Eaters; there were a myriad of options available. Of course the pieces would rebuild themselves after the match just like normal, but Kiran ordered an extra spell for the pieces to make sure Ron couldn’t lose them. The other teen was already missing pieces from his current chess set – Ron swore the twins had taken them for an experiment – but the redhead had never lost his chess board.

Okay, so that took care of the Ministry Five, which only left the Weasley twins and the adults. Fred and George wouldn’t be too hard – a letter of thanks for the way their inventions had helped Harry and an idea or two from the Marauders’ notebooks should do the trick. Maybe a copy of the Marauder’s Map for Diagon Alley instead of Hogwarts would be a better gift – if he could get Remus to help him, of course. He’d see what the Alpha said when the werewolf returned home, so determining exactly what to give the twins would have to wait until later that night.

The adults were next and Kiran knew that Tonks, Kingsley, and Moody were Aurors, so a thank you letter and a cursory set of chainmail armor for underneath their Auror uniform should be useful. And Dumbledore, well, Dumbledore was simply going to receive a letter because despite the fact that he had tried to rescue Sirius that night, he had also been the one to bring Kiran’s father to the Ministry and failed to protect him in the process.

Once he was sure what to send everyone, Kiran searched through his trunks for a small turquoise stone that fit the requirements for Luna’s gift and stumbled across a heap of golden bands that had come from the Wilhelm Vault. Kiran had sat there and stared at the pile for a little bit before counting out seven armbands – one for each for the teens he was sending rewards too.

The wizarding heir wanted something visceral to remind his friends that Harry was still alive in one form or another – he planned on dropping a hint in the letter to Fred and George, not to mention the one he was sending to Ron and Hermione – and the bands would work perfectly for that. They were relatively simple and androgynous despite being made of gold, so it wouldn’t be too suspicious for his friends to start wearing them as armbands or bracelets. Everyone could truthfully say that the bands were a gift from Sirius’ heir due to the Rites and refusing would be extremely rude. The armbands would definitely be less suspicious than if they carried around a letter from Kiran for no discernable reason. If his friends were carrying around his letter then eventually one of the teachers would get a hold of it – knowing his luck, Snape would confiscate it – and that would be all kinds of trouble.

Kiran carefully wrote down the orders and dug out his Gringotts Card so he could tap the order form with it. That would take care of paying for the gifts and all of them should be delivered to his tent in about a week so he could sort them. He’d send the rewards out later with the appropriate letters for each person, but he needed to make sure everything was the way he wanted before it was sent. The teen walked outside the tent to call for his owls and the two small fuzzballs promptly appeared so Kiran could attach the gift orders.

Once he’d sent the owls off with his gift orders, Kiran spent the rest of the time before dinner looking up defense spells that would work against werewolves without killing them. He didn’t really think he’d need to use them, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Sadly there weren’t very many non-lethal spells listed for use against werewolves, but he’d learned a few good defensive spells in the process that he thought might work well if he boosted their power. A shield charm here or there, a mild offensive spell, a dulling charm to take care of any blades – all the teen wolves seemed to carry at least one, even when they were relaxing – and a few other little spells that he thought would be useful.

When Remus returned home, they had a small meal together and discussed what to give the Weasley twins, eventually deciding to send them ideas for pranks that the Marauders had perfected during their school days. The werewolf made sure to look over the list of items Kiran had ordered as rewards and frowned in response. They were nice gifts, no doubt, but they weren’t equivalent to the vengeance the teen had called down on his enemies and Remus told Kiran exactly that.

“I was also going to give all the other students armbands,” the human said with forced calm, something sharp buried in the tone that set off alarm bells in the older male’s mind.

“If you carve protection Runes on the bands and add the Black Family mark for protection, that would be equal to calling vengeance,” the werewolf suggested smoothly. He didn’t want his cub mad at him over something this simple and the armbands would be virtually perfect with the modification he suggested; Kiran had to protect as well as attack to fulfill the that particular oath.

“You would be defending those under your banner as you attacked those who gathered under Voldemort’s,” Remus expounded when he noticed Kiran’s puzzled expression. “That makes it even.”

Kiran nodded in response and tucked the idea way for further examination before he finally settled down to meditate. The teen wanted to try and sort through his magic again with the Alpha nearby to pull him out if something went wrong. He found his magical core much easier this time and spent several hours separating some of the colored strands of magic. Untangling the knots took some time, but eventually the green-tinted magic was coiled away from the black strands through the use of his unaligned grey magic. The black strands had looked like they were trying to strangle the green and leach color from them before the two colors were separated, but now that the green magic was on its own it seemed to be glowing a subtle gold.

Remus roused Kiran to consciousness before he could contemplate the change any further and informed the boy that the Alpha was going to sleep. Kiran nodded in response and headed towards his small suite to prepare for bed and spend some time thinking about the green strands.

.~.~.~.

If Monday morning’s activities were bad, then the practice on Tuesday was absolutely horrible. He was black and blue before they even started, not to mention moving like an old man because he was stiff as hell from the day before. He suffered through the Tuesday practice with the wolves without doubling his bruise count and Reid ended up carrying him back to the tent when they were done. Kiran thanked the wolf before the redhead darted off to his own afternoon practice and the wizard slowly made his way inside the tent he shared with Remus.

Kiran laid inert on one of the couches for a while before finally mustering up the energy to move and slowly limping his way over to a bookcase. He pulled down a potions book that he was pretty sure contained a recipe for bruise balm and collapsed on a nearby couch to find the directions. The wizarding heir certainly had enough potion ingredients to make a potion like that – they’d made it in Potions class before – but Kiran wasn’t sure how long it’d take him to make bruise balm when he was moving this stiffly. It wasn’t like he couldn’t ask Syanth for help, but Kiran didn’t want to get in a habit of being dependant on the Shaman when it she wouldn’t be at K’ver to help him; it was better for him to get used to fending for himself. It didn’t sound like K’ver was very interested in patching up their students unless it was a life or death matter – and maybe not even then. Besides, Syanth was a probably busy enough without having to deal with Kiran’s ever-growing collection of bruises.

It took him over four hours and quite a few attempts, but Kiran finally created a workable bruise solution. He accidentally added some mint to his last bruise balm in addition to the herb he’d been aiming for and the resulting potion smelled much better than any of the previous attempts. Once it reached a safe temperature, the wizard scooped out a good-sized dollop and spread it on one of his bruises. It tingled coolly in a way that Madam Pomfrey’s never had, but it relieved his bruises just as well, so Kiran bottled up the rest of the bruise balm before relaxing on one of the couches. He’d reapply some more before he went to bed, but it looked like most of the balm would be gone by tomorrow morning.

When Kiran heard Remus entering the tent late that night, he waited just long enough to tell the wolf he was going to be exploring his magic before heading straight towards his core. The wizard checked on the green strands first and found them glowing with a gold sheen. Kiran smiled mentally before moving to work with the purplish-blue strands; the greenish-purple strands he’d seen before looked to be tightly entwined with a couple of the dark red strands and untangling them would take a while. 

The blue strands of magic came free faster than the green strands had yesterday, so Kiran moved the blue-tinted magic over to another area and separated it from the rest of the magic with more misty grey magic. The wizard tried to fiddle with the entwined purple and red strands next, but the purple strands seemed almost fused to the black strands to the point that the colors were bleeding between strands. The predominant color was blood red – it looked like those strands were simultaneously merging and consuming the faint purple strands. It was different than the black and green strands, as the black had been trying to kill the rich green stands while the red was simply absorbing the greenish-purple cords.

Remus shook Kiran, pulling him out of his magic right before he could attempt to separate the purple and red lines of magic. The werewolf told the teen that he was exhausted and going to bed; Kiran should do the same. Kiran nodded in response and spent another hour thinking about the interaction between the blood red and purple strands. Quite a few of the red strands stayed away from the purple, so only a small percentage of the red strands were gaining a purple tint to go with their natural tint of tarnished gold. It looked like the red strands with the purple sheen would generally stay separate from the other red cords, but Kiran had absolutely no idea what that meant. 

The boy eventually nodded off to sleep in bed, tossing and turning though the night due to nightmares he never fully remembered when he woke. They weren’t the worst nightmares he had ever experienced – Voldemort’s resurrection the night Cedric died and Sirius falling through the Veil because of Bellatrix were tied for that honor – but they certainly weren’t anywhere near being considered pleasant dreams.

.~.~.~.

Remus waylaid Kiran early the next morning before the teen could leave the tent and made the other male sit down on a nearby couch.

“It’s about time you started to learn weapons work in the afternoons to go with the physical practice you do in the morning,” the Alpha said with a serious face, his word stilling Kiran’s anxious fidgeting.

“Why? I’m basically good enough with my wand to defend myself and practice with the wolves in the morning is hard enough on its own,” Kiran objected. He wanted to keep his afternoons free for magic practice instead of getting involved in more physical practice.

“Because if you lost your wand you’d basically be helpless. Practice with the other teens might be helping, but both vampires and werewolves are naturally stronger than humans – and that’s ignoring any daemons you might come across at K’ver. Every single humanoid being you come across is going to think you’re either incredibly naïve or a flat-out idiot if you don’t have a weapon. Either way, you’re marked as easy prey and likely to die shortly. More immediately, there are some dangerous creatures that have been seen wandering around the Pack grounds lately and I want you to be prepared just in case something happens.”

“Yes, Remus.” Kiran tilted his head downward slightly and gave a thoughtful frown. He’d found spells to help him against werewolves, but it was true that they wouldn’t work if he didn’t have his wand. Kiran should know better than that after all of his adventures; magic couldn’t do everything and had in fact been virtually useless facing the basilisk. Besides, the wolves were constantly overpowering him in morning practice – his bruises were certainly proof of that – and he’d hopefully be able to keep stronger opponents at a distance if he had something sharp.

“Don’t worry about it, cub,” Remus reached over and ruffled the younger man’s hair just to put a smile on Kiran’s face. “I just don’t want you to die on me.”

“I don’t want to die either!” Kiran replied fervently. He wasn’t going to die until he had rescued Sirius – and if that took his life, he wouldn’t think twice about sacrificing it to bring Sirius back. The wizard wasn’t stupid enough to mention that to the Alpha because the werewolf would lock him in a box to keep him safe and Kiran couldn’t have that – it would block him from freeing Sirius, which was something he simply couldn’t accept.

“I’m glad,” Remus commented and smiled at his cub. “Now why don’t you go through the pile of weapons from the Vaults and decide which ones you want to try? There should be a nice variety there for you to choose from. I’ll send over Enan and Trahern to help you figure out which ones would work best in few minutes.”

“You’re not going to help?” Kiran asked with an unconscious frown. “And who are Enan and Trahern?”

“Sorry cub, but I can’t stay; I have to deal with Pack business for a couple of hours. I’ll come by and you can show me your top picks when it’s over, okay? Enan, one of the Pack weapons teachers, and Trahern, the Pack Weaponsmith, should be able to help you make an informed choice.”

Kiran nodded and began to move the weapons containers in front of the tent so that the two werewolves could help him sort through them. Once all of the cases had been moved, the first thing the teen did was take out all of the more ceremonial looking pieces – that broken sword from the Parsifal Vault, all the Family shields, the matched set of weapons from the Potter Vault, the odd sword from the Iblis Vault that looked like it was wrapped in shadows, and several other official looking swords that were scattered amongst the ten vaults he had inherited. He didn’t want to practice with something that was a Family heirloom and end up destroying it by accident…

Once all of the more fragile and ceremonial pieces had been removed from Kiran’s weapon collection, the boy began to sort them according to relative shape and size. All of the sword-like objects went in one pile, the dagger-like objects went in a separate pile, the staves in yet another, the staves with various pointy-things on the ends went in a fourth pile, the multiple-sized axes had their own pile, the weapons that somehow involved chains were put in a sixth pile and anything that looked like it was supposed to be attached to someone’s hand went in a seventh pile. Some of the weapons were so large that he could barely even move them and ended up dragging them across the ground to get them into the right piles. He hoped he hadn’t damaging them in the process, but the dang things were so heavy that he simply couldn’t lift them.

Kiran took to lounging near the open door of the tent to wait for his visitors once everything was relatively in the right pile. A few minutes later a large werewolf carrying an appropriately hefty war hammer strolled into the clearing. The wolf was muscled in ways Kiran couldn’t believe; his biceps, triceps, pecs, abs, and even his calves were rippling with strength and barely contained power. Kiran barely had time to notice that the first wolf was only wearing a ragged pair of leather pants that were cut off at the knees before a second wolf with even larger muscles entered the clearing clad in a sooty black leather apron and the same worn trews as the other werewolf.

The two wolves stopped in shock at the sight of the well-made weapons piled in the clearing, but Kiran refused to leave the safety of the tent’s spacious living room until he knew that the two strangers were sent by Remus.

The first wolf was the first to remove his attention from the weapons and gave a nod of acknowledgement to the other werewolf as he swung his axe down and set it against a tree. “Trahern.”

“Enan,” the second wolf greeted absently as he admired a claymore.

Kiran stepped out of the tent at the confirmation, but paused when Enan’s axe was leveled in his direction and Trahern produced an odd-shaped metal thing from his apron.

The wolves lowered their weapons once they realized he was human and Kiran answered their questioning looks with a shrug. “I’m supposed to pick a weapon to get familiar with.”

“Anything you can’t pick up is out,” Enan responded as he looked covetously at the pile of axes. It included several objects similar to his personal war hammer in addition to a few Lochaber axes – a design that had fallen out of favor quite a while ago. A nearby pile held a couple of rare naginata and a few glaives buried under some pikes.

The two werewolves helped Kiran pack up the piles of axes and staves with pointy ends, both wolves running admiring hands across weapons as they carefully handled them. They saw a series of broadaxes, a group of tridents, a spear or seven, and at least four war scythes – in addition to a collection of smaller, more manageable scythes and the weapons Enan had spotted earlier. Most of them were exceedingly well made and neither of the older males could understand why Kiran had so many sharp objects that he couldn’t use. Even half of the things they had just handled would be considered a decent start to a weapons collection and the kid had five other piles that looked just as large…

“What are you going to use the weapon for?” Trahern asked as he looked Kiran over.

“Fighting,” Kiran said slowly. He thought it was pretty obvious that he’d use a weapon for fighting – it wasn’t like he was planning to chop grain with one of those scythes or try to use one of the war hammers to pound a nail.

“What type of fighting?” Trahern rephrased, but when the young wizard simply furrowed his brows in response, the werewolf continued; he didn’t feel like dealing with stupid comments right now.

“Are you going to be using it for defense or offense; as a last resort, a hidden weapon, a melee weapon, a throwing weapon; in open warfare, with poison on the edge, for assassination, for Challenges or Duels, against wild beasts; from on top of a magical creature – if so, what type? – or just as a general weapon?” the weaponsmith recited off the top of his head.

“I’ll be using it for school. Remus says I’ll need a weapon for K’ver, so I’m trying to find one.”

“When are you going to K’ver?” Enan asked with a considering head tilt. If the boy was going to school in the fall, then he didn’t have the time to learn any of the more complex weapons that would suit his body type or any of the non-lethal weapons that required a large amount of practice and an even greater amount of memorization. If someone used blunt weapons then they either had to have the strength to kill someone with a blow – and Enan could clearly see that the wizard lacked that strength – or they had to be able to precisely hit the most vulnerable spots on the human body, which would take more time than Kiran could have available. 

“Fall,” the human replied as he bent down to start sorting through the pile of chain weapons at his feet. It didn’t seem like it would be too hard to throw a chain at someone, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do after he threw the weapon…

“Then the pile of weapons you’re looking at right now is out. So are all of the close combat and hand-to-hand weapons in the next heap,” Enan commented promptly. “You won’t have enough time for them before school starts.”

“The staves are out too,” Trahern added absently as he knelt down to start picking out acceptable swords for Kiran. 

Kiran and Enan moved towards the three piles the two werewolves had mentioned and began to put them away, although the wizard set aside a pair of metal weapons intended to fit on someone’s hands so that a dagger came out of the bottom of the person’s fist and curved knives sprung from their knuckles. They looked dangerous and Kiran thought that they could substitute as claws for him when he fought the other werewolves so he would be on even ground with the other wolves.

By the time the Pack Weapons Master and the human were finished, there were only two piles left for Kiran to choose from: the pile of swords and the pile of daggers. Even then, Trahern had carefully set aside several weapons that he didn’t think were suitable for Kiran. The wizard got a short peek at the swords as the weaponsmith put them away and managed to get a glimpse of a thin, multi-bladed sword and something with waving edges that looked pretty heavy.

Kiran settled down next to Trahern to look through the swords and skipped straight over all of the larger examples – he wouldn’t be able to lift half of them – and left the two werewolves to move the claymores, two-handed swords, greatswords and other similar weapons back into storage. The wizarding heir didn’t like the look of the shorter and stockier swords, instead heading for the thinner and more curved blades that he thought he could actually use. He wasn’t sure exactly how they were different from Gryffindor’s Sword – it had been difficult enough to stab the basilisk with the thing, much less move it like the wolves had moved their swords yesterday – but Kiran knew that he needed a lighter sword to even have a hope of using it effectively in a fight.

The wizard liked the look of these curved blades much better and picked out a few beautifully made sabers and scimitars that he carefully set aside next to the metal claws. He passed over some razor-thin rapiers in the process, but Trahern promptly pulled out the slighter swords and placed them next to the werewolf. Once the two were done with their selections, all three began to place the myriad swords back into their proper containers.

Just as Kiran was reaching down to pick up a thin sword with no cross-guard and an odd kink towards the end of the blade in order to put it away, Remus appeared with a decidedly satisfied air. It seemed like whatever business the werewolf had been involved with had finished earlier than expected. Kiran was happy to see the Alpha earlier than expected, especially since the werewolf was holding a large basket of what smelled like food and Kiran was hungry.

“Have you decided on a weapon yet?” Remus asked as he began to unload the basket. The other two werewolves were quick to help their Alpha, so Kiran curbed his own reaction to help and simply noted the Marauder’s good mood as he reached towards the close combat weapon.

“I like these,” Kiran said with a smile as he slipped on the metals claws from earlier and held up his hands to show them to his Guardian.

“I don’t think you should use the bagh nakh bich’hwa, Kiran. You really don’t have the built for melee fighting – you’re too thin and willowy to be able to use the Black fighting style properly. The Blacks have never been especially stocky, but they’ve never been as thin as you are. That Family has always gotten down and dirty when they fight, but they’ve always had the build and endurance for it as well,” Remus told Kiran gently. He didn’t want to disappoint the boy, but the wizard was exceedingly unsuited for the type of weapon he’d chosen.

“Besides,” Remus added with a wry smile, “I think that pair of metal claws belongs to Sirius anyway.”

The younger male looked a little depressed at his Guardian’s verdict because he really liked the bladed hand-to-hand weapons, but carefully took them off and set them to the side. He didn’t want to tarnish Sirius’ weapons before the previous Lord Black had a chance to reclaim them and could see the logic behind Remus’ words. He really wasn’t sturdy in the way the wolves or Sirius were – despite being an official Black – and couldn’t actually see himself using the claws to rip into someone else until their blood ran down his hands in thick rivulets. The sad thing was he could envision both Remus and Sirius acting that way given the right provocation and the image gave him something to think about later that night.

The wizard shook off that train of thought and reached for a nearby scimitar next, but the Alpha cut off Kiran before he could even pick up the sword or say anything about it.

“That’s not a good choice either, Kiran. It’s a little too big for you and you won’t have the muscles to stand up to other sword users in direct confrontations. Most opponents would beat you when you lock swords just because they have more muscles. You’ll be better off with a thinner and more flexible weapon that you can use to defend yourself from up close or far away,” the werewolf commented as he looked over towards the Pack Weapons Master and Weaponsmith.

The two werewolves subtly pointed towards a few weapons from behind Kiran’s back. The Alpha noticed the thinner swords there and gave his own mental nod of approval to the choices. The thinner rapiers were much more suited to the wizard’s body type, although it was unlikely that the fragile-looking things would stand up to the force that could be applied by broadswords. He had wanted something a little more substantial for Kiran, but it didn’t look like the boy would have enough time to learn something more suited to his body type before he started school – and walking into K’ver unarmed was worse than going with a weapon that wasn’t perfect.

“Enan and Trahern said the same thing – and I’m pretty sure they chose a few swords like that – but I really like the ones I picked. I think the weapons they chose are still around here somewhere,” Kiran said honestly. It was the Gryffindor in him to want something large and dangerous, but the Slytherin in him could appreciate the deceptively slight forms of other weapons. That didn’t mean he wanted an unobtrusive weapon, but if those were the type that suited him best, than that was what he was going to use – he’d probably just trip over a large weapon anyway and that would get him killed very quickly.

“Why don’t we finish putting away the weapons before we eat lunch?” Remus said as he bent down to help them move the last of the swords back into storage. The English werewolf might be Pack Alpha now, but he wasn’t going to use the position to avoid doing his part.

Kiran reached once more for the odd sword from earlier and picked it up, frowning down at it when he saw the abrupt kink in the metal. He was pretty sure that swords weren’t supposed to have such severe turns or random, missing pieces of metal like this one did, although he had seen some rather interesting pieces of metalwork over the past few hours. The wizard didn’t think anything of his next action, a quick wrist flick that he absently thought might straighten the sword out again if there were any possibility of the sword ever returning its normal form.

The sword did straighten out, but it did so with odd sound that immediately made Kiran look down and realize that the sword was somehow unraveling into long links of metal. The force from his wrist flick had evidently freed a jammed link in the sword and the momentum had carried up the links to free the rest and start the chain moving around his body. 

Kiran looked startled as the sharp edges began to move and absently began to avoid the bladed links as he tried to figure out how to stop the sword. His movements automatically added more momentum to the moving links and began to force them in even more complex patterns so that he had to start twisting and turning to avoid the blades. The wizard had absolutely no clue how to stop the dangerous things; the best idea he could come up with was stepping on the sword tip that had started the whole thing.

The three werewolves watched in shock as Kiran simply moved around the linked blades and began to focus on the end of the chain. It wasn’t normal for anyone to move like that the first time they encountered a chain whip. The loose joints of the whip made it hard to control because the weapon wasn’t a long continuous section, which in turn meant that users needed to keep their eye on all of the links to because their only point of control was the thin handle. It didn’t help that every single link on the whip had both sides sharpened so that Kiran didn’t just have to avoid the sharp tip; he had to avoid any contact with the links as well. Generally, the only sharpened piece on chain whips were the tip and the rest of the chain could be wrapped around body parts, but this particular example was even more dangerous due to the series of double-edged blades.

The quicker the whip moved, the more stable the links were and the easier Kiran could predict the movement of the tip. Therefore the wizard slowly began to ease the whip away from his body and increase the speed of the chain until it formed a continuous, humming circle. Once the circle’s path was established, Kiran began to lower the center of the whip until the tip dragged across the ground at the bottom of the circle. If he slowed it down enough at the bottom without destabilizing the circle, he should be able to trap the tip under his foot and pull the chain taunt to keep it from moving again. If he was too early, he would slice off his foot; if he was too late, then he needed to pull his foot back quickly in order to prevent slicing his foot on the next rotation a few second later.

Kiran waited a few turns of the chain before carefully darting out his foot and stepping down on the chain’s dragging tip. Once he felt the tip through the sole of his shoe, he pressed down firmly and moved the handle of the whip as high as possible over his head. The links vibrated for a moment along the chain, but they eventually stopped moving and settled into a taunt chain that stretched between Kiran’s raised arm and his extended foot.

Now that the weapon wasn’t dangerous anymore, the wizard promptly removed his foot and released the handle so that the chain could be safely coiled on the ground. Kiran missed the incredulous looks from the werewolves and started towards the group of older men in order to get his lunch. The wizard was hungry and didn’t think anything of his encounter with the chain – he hadn’t been hurt mentally, emotionally or physically – even if it was a little different to deal with a dangerous pointy object instead of hazardous sentient things like plants, snakes or people.

“Up to trying something before you eat?” Enan asked Kiran even as he looked towards Remus for permission. He had an idea he wanted to try before the younger male sat down to eat, but he didn’t want the Alpha to think he was intruding on his territory by appropriating the cub when Remus had obviously brought them lunch in order to spend time with Kiran.

Kiran’s reluctant acceptance went hand in hand with Remus’ subtle nod and Enan got up to grab a small packet that he’d set down earlier. Kiran paused and waited in place as the Weapons Master unwrapped the bundle to pull out several objects. They looked like small throwing knives, but they didn’t have the traditional sharp edges because they were made from wood instead of metal. A few of the fake knives had the handle area painted black, but the majority had bright red paint for some reason.

“Stand there and catch what I’m throwing at you.” Enan picked up several of the wooden knives. “Grab the red handles.”

Well, that explained the red paint and the reason why the throwing knives were made of wood – slicing someone open when they were trying to practice catching knives wouldn’t be very practical. Kiran stood there almost vibrating with nerves as the werewolf’s wrist flicked and the small blur of the knife began to fly towards him. The dark-haired male wasn’t too sure about his ability to catch it, but at least he’d only get bruises if he missed and not anything worse.

The wizard tracked the flying object carefully, focusing on it intently as it neared him until he could clearly see the red handle. Kiran tilted his body slightly to avoid the weapon’s flight path and darted a hand out to pluck the knife from the air in one smooth motion. Enan gave a tight nod as if the wizard had confirmed something before throwing more knives at the younger male.

The black-haired male absently dropped the wooden weapon in his hand to the ground as he focused on the new knives and began to track them. Kiran quickly located the red handles and used his right hand to snatch them out of the air one after another, immediately dropping each knife to the ground as soon as he had it in his hand so he could use his right hand to grab yet another knife.

The wizard noticed something out of the corner of his eye and focused most of his attention on it as his right hand continued to arbitrarily deal with the red knives. Kiran wasn’t even thinking as his body automatically twisted so he could use his left hand to intercept the dark blur as his right hand plucked the last red knife out of the air.

Kiran looked down at his left hand – he wasn’t even sure what he’d caught – to find a black handle between his fingers. The black-painted handle tapered down to a dark wood, making it hard to tell where the handle ended and the wooden blade began. 

“I thought you said red handles?” the wizard asked innocently as looked at the werewolves and held up the weapon in question. He couldn’t understand why Enan had thrown that particular fake knife at him while he was occupied with the other knives; if he could pick out the red knives then he should be able to do the same for the black.

Admittedly, he’d barely seen it out of the corner of his eye and could only attribute the fact he’d perceived it to his time spent on a broom searching for the snitch. He generally spotted the snitch out of the corner of his eye – he’d swear they were charmed to avoid flying into the direct line of sight for any of the players – so it had become a habit to focus most of his attention on that point of view and leave the rest of his mind to fly the broom and deal with obstacles directly in front of him. Evidently his little habit was useful for more than Quidditch, although Kiran hadn’t even thought about how he reacted to things out of the corner of his eye before he’d plucked the blunt knife out of the air.

The Weapons Master didn’t answer, instead motioning for Kiran to join them for lunch. That little demonstration had definitely proved him right – the kid had exceedingly high hand-eye coordination. The chain whip and throwing knives were good weapons for him because of that and Enan planned to make the boy proficient in both of them before he left for K’ver. If he was as magically powerful as his Patronus had implied, then he didn’t specifically need to learn a close combat weapon, but the Weapons Master was going to teach the boy how to knife fight just in case.

Remus, on the other hand, hadn’t even blinked at the easy way Kiran had plucked the knives out the air; he was used to Harry’s ability to get his hands on the snitch in Quidditch no matter the circumstance. The Alpha hadn’t thought to translate Harry’s ability to catch the flying ball into weapons ability, but Enan’s stunt with the black knife had made him feel better about Kiran’s ability to defend himself. If he could pluck knives out the air, then he should be able to avoid long-range weapons and his magic – combined with the chain whip from earlier – would help his cub avoid closing with the stronger students at school.

“Make sure you don’t lose that chain whip and we’ll pick you out a bandolier of knives after lunch,” Trahern announced as Kiran sat down. He was quite satisfied at the way things had turned out; the werewolf didn’t need to forge anything new for the wizard and the boy had found a set of weapons that were well-suited for his built. The Weaponsmith had even had a chance to examine some beautifully made weapons and was now mentally modifying some of his own weapon designs so that they were stronger and more elegant.

Lunch passed quickly – a given considering the large appetites of most werewolves – and Remus promptly left afterwards in order to deal with Pack politics. He’d taken a lunch break to spend time with Kiran, but he didn’t have much time to spare. Negotiations with the Otis Pack were going well – mostly due to the gems Kiran had given the Pack as part of his Initiation – and Remus needed to work on his response to the politely stated demands from the Eastern Europe Pack. Tuesday had been the seventh day of gifting and Lupin had visited the other Pack to discuss terms of their alliance, returning with the aforementioned list. The Otis Alpha had been cordial to Remus during their meeting and his requested concessions had been relatively realistic. There were a few unreasonable requests – particularly something outrageous about tithes – that were obviously included to test Remus’ ability as Enzo Alpha. The other Pack Leader seemed decent and it looked like the two Packs would be able to ally again without too much trouble.

Enan and Trahern promptly ushered Kiran towards the pile of knives when everyone was finished eating so that the younger male could pick out a series of suitable daggers. He needed an extensive set of throwing daggers, in multiple sizes for a multitude of uses. Some larger throwing knives were better for killing by deeply penetrating vital organs, although most of the smaller daggers were more suited for precise strikes and targeting nerve clusters.

The two werewolves pointed out several pairs of large throwing or duelling daggers, including a set with snakes etched into the handles and cruel cutting edges. Kiran liked the look of them and picked them up, admiring the heavy handles and the small emeralds set at the top of the pommel. The knives fit well in his hands and something about them seemed unconsciously familiar to Kiran – despite the fact he could swear to never having touched anything that looked even remotely similar to the blades.

Once the serpent daggers had been safely deposited next to his chain whip, Kiran let the two older males direct his attention towards the collection of smaller throwing knives that Trahern and Enan had laid out for him to peruse. He didn’t much like the style of the thin stiletto blades – they looked too long to throw comfortably – but he set aside a few with needle tips at the urging of the weapons teacher. The knives he preferred were actually smaller, with thin, double-edged blades and small grooves and etchings that reminded him of his larger snake daggers.

The knives Kiran picked were solid and aerodynamic despite their decorative grooves, so the two werewolves stifled their protests; if he wanted decorative knives, then that was his choice as long as the teen could actually use them. The etchings were odd, something Trahern would have never added to any of the weapons he forged, but the knives were oddly well-balanced despite the grooves and the Weaponsmith could see no reason why Kiran wouldn’t be able to throw them.

After the human had a good collection of throwing knives selected, the three males quickly put the rest of the knives back into their proper containers and Enan reminded Kiran to come with the rest of the younger wolves to weapons practice tomorrow before the Pack Weapons Master left to supervise the day’s more complex sparring. Trahern stayed behind, sitting down near Kiran’s weapons and pulling out several bottles that he set on the ground.

“There are two things I need to tell you – because I doubt anyone else has taken the time and it is my duty as Weaponsmith to tell all Pack members when they receive their blades.” The werewolf gestured for Kiran to sit down beside him.

“‘This is the first rule: You do not draw a blade without intent to use it.’ Blades – no matter their shape –” Trahern said with an odd look at Kiran’s chain whip, “were made to kill. No warrior draws a weapon without knowing he can and will kill with it; there is no hesitation, there is no doubt. There are even swords out there that require a life before they can be returned to their scabbard, but thankfully those are few and far between.”

Kiran frowned in reaction to the statement, not sure if he wanted the chain whip if it meant that he would have to be able to kill any time he used it. He wasn’t sure he could accept the fact that by drawing any blade he had to be ready to deal death to all those who came across the bared steel. If he had to be ready to kill to use a blade, then he wasn’t sure he wanted to learn any weapon that could hold an edge; but then again, one of the werewolves could beat him to death with their bare hands and he’d still be just as dead as if they’d used a sword – the sword would just be faster and hurt less. Could edged weapons then be considered weapons of mercy besides just being faster ways to kill people?

“You don’t have to decide now, but you need to know that any bladed weapon was made to kill and that by drawing it you have to be ready to use it for that purpose or you can never use the weapon to its full potential,” the werewolf said softly. He knew how hard it was to know drawing a weapon meant being willing to kill someone; it was worse as a weaponsmith because he knew every weapon he made would one day kill someone and he had to live with that fact. He had to do more than just live with it; he had to embrace it because the blades had to be as perfect and as sharp as possible to protect the people wielding them and he would not have one of his Pack die because their blade had failed them.

“‘This is the second rule: A blade does not enter a sheath unless it is clean.’ To leave a blade dirty after using it is a sign of disrespect and the mark of swordsman who cares neither for his blades nor his friends; such a man is not to be trusted.” The Pack Weaponsmith frowned at the teen. “I don’t care what you do with your blades, but you will learn to clean them properly.”

Trahern then proceeded to spend the next hour showing Kiran exactly how to take care of his weapons without cutting himself or ruining their edges. The bottles the werewolf took out earlier contained sweet-smelling oil that the older male poured onto a cloth before carefully running it over the sharp edges of the chain whip and several daggers as an example. Trahern even showed Kiran how to clean and oil the delicate links between the bladed sections so that the whip would move smoothly. As soon as Trahern was sure the wizard knew what he was doing and wasn’t going to bleed all over his new weapons, the older male warned Kiran to pay special attention to his chain whip and returned to the Pack’s forge.

The teen spent another hour carefully going over his weapons – the bladed chain whip especially needed to be in top condition so Kiran could practice with it safely – before he acknowledged the stiffness in his muscles. The wizard collected all of his weapons and moved them into his room before grabbing the bruise balm from the day before and rubbing the last of it on his fading bruises and sore spots.

Kiran considered the empty container for a moment before deciding to make more of the bruise balm. He had no clue what he would be doing in weapons practice tomorrow, but, at the very least, the fighting practice with the other teens would result in more bruises. The potion had been successful in alleviating his aches and pains from Monday and Tuesday, so it would be useful to have some of it on hand. Besides Remus wasn’t home yet, so he couldn’t explore his magic or his mindscape; making more of the potion would be a good use of his time – it wasn’t like any of the Rune books were currently making heaps of sense anyway. 

The wizard grabbed the potions book from the day before and double-checked his ingredients, making sure to have a few sprigs of mint in addition to the required plants and animal parts listed in the book. He had to empty his first attempt after it started to turn a startling ocean-green when the minced mint was added separate from the minced marjoram leaves. A second try with what was probably too much mint lead to a bright teal potion and Kiran had to start over once more. The third try was the charm and the teen immediately grabbed a pen so he could note down the changes that produced the bruise balm he preferred. 

Once the dark-haired boy was sure that he had written everything down correctly, he followed the new directions once more and produced another cauldron of bruise balm that he promptly bottled and stored with the previous batch. The sad thing was that he was learning more by trial and error on his own – despite rapidly using up ingredients – than Harry had ever learned from Snape at Hogwarts. If this was how the Potions Master had invented Wolfsbane, then Kiran could almost see why the other male liked his subject so much. There was no denying that Snape was a horrible teacher and the man could hold a grudge until the end of time, but if he could make something completely new from random ingredients, then he had earned his right to the title of Potions Master. Not that he liked Snape, but he could sort-of appreciate the man’s talent without appreciating the man, and, well, considering his own failures with the bruise balm, the teen probably shouldn’t have blithely applied the first batch to his skin without making sure it wouldn’t hurt him…

And if the bruise balm had helped so much, then the next potion in the book – something that worked to repair strained muscles after hard work – would probably help him tomorrow after his first weapons practice. His first try was an abysmal failure – it was a bright pink – as was the second and third – magenta and smoky yellow, respectively. The fourth was closer to the potion’s correct color of pale gold, but smelled strongly of lilies instead of a soft lavender and rosemary combination. The fifth attempt was the correct color and smelled right, but it was extremely thick and would be almost impossible to swallow. Kiran adjusted the flame under his cauldron before the sixth try and made sure to carefully shred several of the ingredients into even smaller pieces before starting again. 

This attempt succeeded and the wizard made sure to bottle several doses of the healing potion before the cauldron was down to its dregs and he had to empty it. Kiran knew he still had at least another hour and a half before Remus came home – the wolf generally arrived at about seven at night – and he flipped through the potion book to find another potion to try. He wanted to stock up on healing potions while he had some time, because Kiran figured that he wouldn’t have a lot of time or interest in making potions after his weapons practice.

His third potion recipe was used to create a painless healing sleep, so Kiran carefully checked the level of his fire and the preparation of his ingredients before starting; he didn’t have time to try it more than once. All of the diced valerian root was the same size, the passionflower petals were chopped into small pieces, and the blue poppy seeds had been crushed in a mortar before the oil was strained off through cheesecloth and the broken seeds were dumped into distilled asphodel to create the required infusion. The powdered moonstone was a shimmering white, the moondew extract was easily available, and the boom berry juice was plentiful.

The first thing he did was mix three parts boom berry juice with four parts distilled water and bring the resulting liquid to a slow boil. The diced valerian root was added 1/6th at a time between seven clockwise stirs before the moondew extract was poured into the cauldron and the powdered moonstone was sprinkled on top of the potion. Once the powder sunk past the surface tension holding it up, the potion turned white and Kiran gave it three quick stirs counter-clockwise. The wizard let the mixture simmer for five minutes before turning up the fire until the potion was at a rolling boil and adding the distilled asphodel, making sure that the broken poppy seeds were added to the potion as well. Exactly seven minutes later, the fire was turned down to almost nothing and the blue poppy seed oil was added to the potion, turning it a pale blue. Eight half-circle stirs on the right side of the cauldron followed by eight half-circle stirs on the left side, then add the chopped passionflower petals and perform two counter-clockwise figure-eights to turn the potion light purple before turning off the fire and leaving the potion to sit for six minutes. The final product was a pale purple that shimmered lightly in the light, just as the instructions said it should.

Kiran sniffed to check the scent of the potion and paused as he noticed the lavender and chamomile scent of the brew. It was the correct smell, but it was odd that the scent for his version of the bruise balm also involved lavender and the muscle healing potion smelled like rosemary and lavender; even the healing potions Madam Pomfrey used on Harry Potter in Hogwarts had always smelled like lavender. Kiran thought about that fact for a moment and decided that healing potions were supposed to smell like lavender and that the smell of a potion was an indication of its purpose. Snape had always tested the color, clarity, viscosity, and smell of his potions when he was ridiculing him in class and the Potions Masters had to have some way to tell apart potions that happened to have lost their labels, so it made sense that smell would be a key descriptor for a potion. Well, from now on he wasn’t going to take anything labelled as a healing potion unless he smelled lavender; he didn’t want to take any chances with his own brews or someone else’s potions.

The teen bottled the potion after the requisite waiting period, taking care to bottle the dregs of the potion separately; the instructions mentioned using them in baths to sooth sore muscles and induce relaxation. He could use all the help he could get on the healing side of things if weapons practice was going to be anything like the way the teens were teaching him to fight unarmed.

Remus entered the tent shortly after Kiran labelled his potions and found a box in which to store them. The werewolf went into the kitchen to make a late dinner and the teen yelled that he was going to explore his magic before settling on his bed and delving inward towards his core. A quick check showed that the green-gold strands and the purple-blue strands were still separate from the rest of the magical knot and doing fine, so Kiran turned his attention towards the red strands mired in the tangle of magic.

This time the red strands seemed to be naturally separated into five different groups with the largest grouping of threads showing only the blood red and tarnished gold of the original strands. The red strands he had been dealing with before showed hints of pale purple and pale green, but another set of threads were showing miniscule flashes of gold and green inside the strand’s tarnished gold, although the red in those threads had its own hints of black inside. The third group of red threads was wreathed in a bright red haze that hovered around the strands and the fourth set of strands had streaks of topaz intermingling with the tarnished gold. All of them were bundled into different groups with the grey mist of his normal magic forming barriers between them.

The purple-blue strands from his last sorting were in a safe place all their own, as were the dark blue threads with opal streaks. The only area that still seemed to be a mix of colors were the black tangle of threads, as some of them had ivory streaks, while others had dark red tints and the third set of threads had a mix of dark purple and random other colors.

Kiran approached the tangled black knot and poked at it for a couple of minutes before carefully beginning to untangle the threads. The black strands with ivory streaks came free relatively easily and the wizard corralled that type of magic away from the other colors with his neutral magic. The dark reddish-black strands were also relatively easy to remove from the knot with now that so many strands were missing from the original tangle. The rest of the knot was a mesh of dark purple-black threads with random tints of dark red, dark green, and purple.

Once the final tangle was undone, Kiran moved the dark purple threads with black streaks and tints of dark green into a different area from the threads that were black with hints of dark purple, dark red, and a medium purple hue. Once the teen was sure his magic had been untangled and all of the various strands had been separated by color, he withdrew from his mind to find Remus relaxing in a chair next to his bed as the werewolf wrote on parchment.

“What time is it?” Kiran asked as he muffled a yawn.

The werewolf cast a quick tempus charm before he replied. “It’s a little after midnight.”

“How did the weapons selection go after I left?” the older male asked curiously. He trusted the two werewolves to pick good weapons for Kiran, but the boy was his cub and he wanted Kiran to be satisfied and happy with the weapons he would soon be learning to use.

“I picked out some knives – they’re over there,” the teen said with another yawn as he waved a hand at the table where he had left his weapons before fumbling with his covers and pulling them back so he could slip inside.

Remus wandered over to the table and took a look at the knives laid out on it, admiring the odd ornamentation on the blades. He reached out a hand to touch the large daggers with serpents on the hilts, but paused before his hand came in contact with the metal as there was something decidedly off about the blades that warned his wolf away from touching them. He didn’t really want his cub using a weapon that the werewolf part of his nature disliked, but it was possible that the knives had some innate property that was dangerous to werewolves. The smaller throwing knives also looked to be in good condition, so Remus turned around to ask Kiran about the serpent daggers only to find the teen had already fallen asleep. Remus gave a soft smile at the sight and decided to let the younger male sleep; he’d ask him about the two knives in the morning. 

The Alpha turned back to the blades, avoiding touching the two large daggers, but testing the edges of all of the other knives to make sure they were sharp enough to use without endangering Kiran. A few of them weren’t as sharp as they needed to be and Remus added a talk about sharpening edges to his mental list of things to talk to Kiran about in the morning.

With a last look at his cub, Remus headed towards his own room and sat down at the desk to go over the proposed treaty with the Otis Pack again. He needed to have everything settled as soon as possible, considering the other werewolf Pack would have to visit to confirm the treaty and he didn’t want them around for Kiran’s birthday. The teen would likely be getting quite the Inheritance and the Alpha didn’t want foreigners around during what would be a difficult and possibly defenseless time for his cub; powerful Inheritances often left wizards defenseless until their magic adapted to the changes and settled down again. Proper Inheritance Chambers could channel the power and drain off the excess before it overloaded the wizard, but they didn’t have access to anything even remotely similar that could help Kiran on his birthday. Hopefully whatever they managed to jury-rig for the occasion would be able to safely contain and bleed off any of Kiran’s excess magical energy. Inheritance Chambers were generally able to redirect the excess magic into storage containers or towards charging wards, but Remus didn’t know much about shunting excess magic into wards and Inheritance magic was infinitely harder to control due to its wild nature.

The Alpha scratched out a rough list of what he thought they’d need to make the wards for Kiran’s birthday. Remus took a few more moments to compile another list alongside the first that listed what the Pack would need to redo the wards on the Pack lands. Wards were easy enough for Remus to design – especially after the practice he’d had with containment wards on full moon nights – and Kiran could help charge them before he left for school to provide the power needed to set them up.

.~.~.~.

Kiran was over an hour late to practice with the other teens on Thursday because Remus detained him that morning to give him a talk about what level of sharpness on his blades was appropriate for practice or fights to the death. The Alpha had made it quite clear that his blades were fine for practice – they wouldn’t slice his flesh open to the bone at the smallest application of pressure – but that the blades should be able to split a falling piece of hair if he was ever going to use them for hunting or fights. The teen didn’t have the strength to use a blunt weapon and needed all the advantages he could get; not that the Marauder was in any way encouraging the teen to get in fights with the Pack werewolves, just advising him in case something happened, but face it – with that many instinct-driven wolves, testosterone-motivated males, and hormone-filled teens, something was going to happen eventually.

From there the older male had segued directly into talking about the two daggers with serpent handles, explaining to the puzzled teen that the daggers gave him the same feeling at the smoke-filled orb from the shop in Diagon Alley. It raised the hackles on his wolf, sending clear danger signals that warned Remus away from touching any part of the blade, much less trying to use the paired weapons. The Alpha didn’t want Kiran using the two knives, but the wizarding heir didn’t feel anything wrong with the blades; in fact, they felt almost comforting to him. The teen managed to get out a muddled explanation that mentioned how easy the blades felt in his hands – how they almost felt like home in a way – and seemed almost protective in an odd way that he really couldn’t quantify. That seemed to mollify Remus slightly, as the adult plied him with a disproportionately large lunch and reminded him to collect his weapons before Kiran was finally allowed to leave the tent.

At the practice with the other weres, Reid carefully reviewed how to fall correctly with Kiran and had the boy practice the procedure several times before Trystan stepped in to detail several actions that could help free a smaller person from a larger opponent. The older teen had told Kiran that elbows were some of the hardest parts of the body and that aiming for insteps, neck, throat, solar plexus, temple, ears, heart, kidney, knees, and nose were generally solid ways to make someone release their grip; if that didn’t work, then crotch or eye shots were good alternatives. Trystan also stated a few rules Reid hadn’t previously mentioned: run from the fight if at all possible, avoid being driven into a corner or remaining stationary, don’t hesitate to use cheap shots if they present themselves, always have a Plan B, and redirecting or dodging a blow is more effective than blocking it.

Once Trystan had displayed what the rules meant and ensured the younger teen could demonstrate an acceptable level of proficiency in their execution, the taller male supervised a gentle spar between his spiky-haired shadow and Kiran. The exercise was often paused so Trystan could correct something the human teen had done wrong; Killian bearing the wait with an odd, stoic silence that Kiran didn’t quite understand.

When it was approaching one in the afternoon, Trystan called a halt to the supervised spar and guided Kiran through a methodical cool-down before the human staggered over to where he’d left his lunch and collapsed. The teen single-mindedly started pulling objects out of the satchel and didn’t look up until he knew it was empty. What he found was interesting; Remus had evidently forgotten that Kiran didn’t have a werewolf’s appetite – or even a normal person’s after living with the Dursleys for so long – as the Alpha had packed a lunch suitable for an active werewolf and tripled it before sending the satchel off with his ward. The human contemplated the large pile of food for a moment before making the obvious decision to share the bounty and asking Trystan and Killian to eat lunch with him.

The taller werewolf gave Kiran a considering look before accepting his offer with an odd smile and motioning Killian over to join them. The shorter and more muscled male readily came over, but both wolves were oddly considerate in letting Kiran chose his portion first before Trystan and then Killian began to pick out what they wanted to eat. The three boys settled down near one of the trees and spent lunch discussing self-defense. Trystan knew even more alternatives than he’d shown Kiran earlier and Killian even had a few suggestions of his own, although the quieter werewolf’s ideas were generally rougher and bloodier than Trystan’s elegantly effective moves.

Kiran felt that someone was watching him while they were eating and couldn’t help but look up every once in a while to find the person, but the twins and Jurgen were the only ones he found looking in their direction – and that was only once or twice out of over fourteen attempts to find who was staring at him. It was beginning to bother Kiran; he had never liked the attention he got as the Boy-Who-Lived – it had been nice shopping in Diagonal Alley without people pointing or gossiping about him the entire way – and the human couldn’t think of a reason why someone would be so focused on Kiran Wilhelm to the extent that if felt like Rita Skeeter was focusing on Harry Potter to the exclusion of all else.

Trystan eventually distracted the wizard from his preoccupation with whoever was watching him when he volunteered to lead the other teen to weapons practice, Killian silently following behind them in a manner that was starting to make Kiran a little nervous. None of his friends from Hogwarts had ever hung back from a chatting group in that type of singularly intense and silently watchful preoccupation – not even some of the shyer people from the DA who had made it a habit to try and avoid talking to Harry.

Kiran had never understood why they refused to step forward on their own – he’d certainly never had a problem with expressing his opinion when he believed in something – but he supposed it had something to do with the leader-follower dynamics and group hierarchies that Hermione had been ranting about at the beginning of fifth year when the press had been particularly vicious after his trial. She’d evidently done a lot of research on psychology over the summer – probably in some attempt to understand how to help him ‘get over’ Cedric’s death – and everything she’d talked about had involved the subject somehow until he’d gotten her focused on the DA and then everything had involved DADA in one way or another. Kiran would have to admit that Hermione was a bit obsessive once she found a new topic – magic and Hogwarts, A History first year, Lockhart and the basilisk second year, Sirius Black and every magical subject of Hogwarts third year, the Triwizard Tournament and Victor Krum fourth year and, of course, SPEW and the DA this past year.

When the three teens arrived at the designated clearing for practicing with weapons under the supervision of the Weapons Master, Enan simply sent Kiran on a light warm up run with the myriad other werewolves in the clearing. By the time the huge group was finished running their assigned path, Kiran was panting slightly for breath and feeling the fatigue in his muscles as the practice fights from earlier in the week came back to haunt him. He was in decent shape due to Quidditch practices, Harry Hunting, and the DA’s dueling practice, but he had never emphasized endurance over speed and it seemed like most of the wolves put a lot more emphasis on outlasting their opponents rather than outwitting them. Trystan had been nice enough to keep pace with Kiran during the run in order to make sure the teen didn’t get lost – and of course Killian had followed them both the entire way.

Kiran was the second-to-last one to enter the clearing out of the large group that had left earlier and the Weapons Master promptly sent Trystan and Killian off to do their own weapons practice as the elder werewolf pulled the human aside to give him personal instruction on using his new weapons.

“A normal whip is easier to use than a chain whip, so you’ll learn to handle that first,” Enan said as he stopped Kiran from going over to pick up his bladed whip and handed the teen a normal whip made from rawhide instead.

“All you need to do is practice moving the whip in different directions,” the werewolf said with a distracted air as he turned away from Kiran to correct the sword form of a nearby werewolf who looked to be about twenty and was attempting a move that almost chopped off his own head.

Kiran watched Enan leave before turning his attention towards the whip in his hands and uncoiling the supple length. He flicked it lightly and watched as the action rippled down the whip until the tip moved. The teen focused his attention on the very end of whip and started twisting his hand all different directions until the tip moved as he desired, ignoring the odd motions of the rest of the whip.

Eventually the tip of the whip stopped moving as it should and Kiran looked down to find the majority of the whip tangled in a complex mess. The teen cocked his head curiously at the sight before sitting down cross-legged to start untangling the mess he’d made of the whip. It’d be pretty useless to practice with a tangled whip, so he needed to straighten it out before he could continue.

Enan showed up shortly after that and looked down at the sitting teen, annoyed that the kid wasn’t practicing as he’d been told. The human needed to practice in order to stay alive when he went to K’ver but instead of doing so was sitting on the ground and playing with something in his lap. The Weapons Master frowned in response to his thoughts and prodded the younger male with a foot in order to get his attention.

Kiran looked up promptly when something poked him in the side, pausing in untangling the whip so he could figure out what was demanding his attention. When he saw that it was Enan, he gave a guilty little shrug and lifted the mess in his lap up to show the glaring werewolf why he wasn’t practicing.

“Come get me when you’ve finished untangling that so I can watch what you’re doing and figure out where you went wrong,” the Weapons Master said before he turned around and walked towards a thirty-something wolf that was wielding an axe with a blade twice the size of his head.

The teen spent a few more minutes untangling the whip before following the werewolf’s path and making sure to avoid the wolves that seemed rather careless with their weapons. A lot of them seemed to be in their teens or early twenties, but the most unstable weapons work came from a large group of children that were playing with sharpened wooden swords and didn’t seem to care who, where, or what they hit during their free-for-all battle.

Once the wizard reached Enan, the werewolf moved with Kiran to a free part of the clearing and had the dark-haired male try manipulating the whip once again. The teen did as he was asked, but stopped as soon as the tip of the whip stopped moving as expected and looked down to find the weapon in knots once more.

“You’re not paying attention to the body of the whip.” The Weapons Master frowned as he plucked the tangled whip from Kiran’s hands and began to straighten out the mess the teen had made of the long leather whip. “You didn’t have that problem with the chain whip.”

“The chain whip has sharp edges,” Kiran said with a shrug. 

He’d only ever needed to track multiple disconnected things like hurtful hands and opposing quidditch players before this. It didn’t help that after dealing with the Dursleys for so long he tended to track the end result rather than the whole movement – after all, it was hard to track what certain muscle movements meant when the movements themselves were covered with the layers of fat in Dudley’s body or when there were multiple opponents attacking him during Harry Hunting. 

The older werewolf raised an eyebrow at the kid and gave a wry smile before shaking his head and telling Kiran to get his chain whip. Evidently the kid stumbling across the weapon yesterday had been rather lucky because the Weapons Master would have never trusted the kid with any weapon that moved separate from Kiran’s hands after the earlier demonstration with the whip, especially not anything that even remotely resembled the chain whip or throwing daggers that seemed to suit to the wizarding teen best.

Quite simply, learning how to wield a leather whip was the basic requirement for learning how to throw a dagger in the Pack, as the hand-eye coordination required to use a whip would prove the were could be trusted to hit the targets and not random bystanders when dealing with throwing knives. Enan was the Pack Weapons Master and has taught his fellow wolves a variety of weapons, but it had been a while since he’d had the chance to teach the more precise art of throwing sharp weapons. Several weres had expressed interest in throwing daggers, but lacked the patience to learn the art or Enan simply didn’t trust that the young weres wouldn’t hurt others in the process of learning. 

Most werewolves preferred larger weapons like axes or swords that made the most of their enhanced strength, but occasionally there were Pack members like Diantha that preferred a bow and arrows to other weapons. On the other end of the scale, they had some wolves that did prefer swords, but were so precise with the weapons that they might have well be doing surgery; most noticeably his son Wenlock’s twin blades or Trystan’s near perfect broadsword form. The latter teen would have been perfectly comfortable in feudal Japan given his obsession with perfecting his sword form and the strict honor code he’d somehow adopted. Wenlock had been friends with the other teen for years and Enan knew his son fully intended to play Beta to Trystan’s Tribe Alpha, but the Weapons Master still had no idea how Trystan had come into contact with an odd hybrid of the samurai honor code and the knight’s code of conduct.

The new Alpha was also different from a typical were in his weapon selection; the day before he had inferred his preferred weapons were double maces and his own claws. Everyone knew why Killian ended up using his claws over half the time, but it didn’t seem like Lupin had anything like that in his past and such an event would have been pretty obvious. Then again, it was possible that the Alpha had gotten accustomed to fighting with his claws because his mate’s main weapon was a pair of bagh nakh bich-hwa. And if the missing male was any good with the Indian combination of tiger claws and curved dagger, then he should get along with the Pack just fine. There were horror stories about the selfish mates of Pack Alphas and even worse tales about un-accepting human mates; the Weapons Master would count them lucky if this Sirius was half as accepting as Remus had described – especially seeing that the male in question wasn’t with the Alpha and Kiran on Pack lands. Enan reminded himself to talk to Warren about that subject later and dragged his attention back to the present.

Kiran had been gone for longer than it should have taken the teen to retrieve his weapon, so the older werewolf began to look around the clearing in an attempt to find him. The Weapons Master had some trouble locating the wizard before he finally spotted the teen on the other side of Wenlock’s fight against Idris and Inir. His son’s double swords were flashing as he deflected Idris’ oddly jointed, double-ended halberd and Inir’s hulking two-handed sword. The werewolf watched their form for a minute before his attention was grabbed by Kiran’s oddly casual shrug and he watched in shock as the human walked through the periphery of the three teens’ fight and managed to avoid getting hit by any of the rebounding weapons and wild back swings while the three werewolves didn’t even register his presence.

Well at least he knows how to dodge things besides knives, the Weapons Master thought in shock. The wizarding teen shouldn’t have even been near that fight, much less trying to cross through it. Even disregarding Kiran’s position, the three wolves should have registered the human’s presence before he’d had a need to try and cross the fight. Not to mention, Enan would have sworn Wenlock had been sparring with Trystan and Idris had been practicing his halberd half-way across the clearing from the other teen when he’d last checked on them. The ease at which Kiran ducked and dodged his way through the edges of the fight set the warning bells in the Weapons Master’s head into a frenzy of clanging. 

The werewolf added another thing to talk with Warren about to his mental to-do list and tried to think of a time to talk to the Pack Beta. He didn’t want to offend the Alpha if his new-found assumption was wrong, but Enan needed to talk to someone about the conclusion he’d just reached and Warren was the next best option after Lupin.

Kiran joined the Weapons Master a few minutes later with some small cuts and bruises from blows he hadn’t been able to completely avoid. Thankfully it looked like he had been able to minimize the damage from the impacts he couldn’t dodge, as Enan didn’t want to send his Alpha’s cub back bloody and broken from his first weapons’ practice, but the very fact that the kid knew how to minimize the damage meant that it was imperative that the werewolf talk with Warren as soon as possible. Well, as soon as weapons’ practice was finished for day – and for that to happen he needed to get the kid settled and learning how to use the chain whip.

“You might want to stock up on medical supplies,” the werewolf couldn’t resist saying with a wry smile before the older male’s expression smoothed out and he directed Kiran to work on hitting a nearby tree trunk with the chain whip.

The teen nodded in response to the order and began to focus on the chain whip, slowly flicking his wrist towards the tree trunk and watching how the whip responded. He’d figured out how to avoid getting hit by the whip yesterday, but that had been mostly action-reaction, not actual knowledge of how the whip would respond to his movements. If he was going to be using a chain whip, then he needed to know what each wrist and hand movement would do to the whip so he didn’t accidentally get himself killed in a fight. If he dodged someone else’s weapon, but the motion made the chain whip kill him, then the whole point was moot and he’d never find a way to rescue Sirius from the Veil – and that was completely unacceptable. So it looked like he’d be learning how to use the chain whip because he wasn’t kicking the bucket until he had Sirius back safe and sound.

Kiran settled down into the motions and spent over an hour observing the different ways that an upward flick of his wrist could change the movement of the bladed links. He felt someone watching him and dismissed it as a werewolf indulging their curiosity or Enan checking up on his progress. The Weapons Master promptly reappeared just as Kiran switched to downward flicks, the links almost seeming to form a spiral as the motion propagated towards the end of the whip. It was certainly different from any of the upward flicks, which tended to pull the whip up linearly as the wave travelled down towards the sharp tip.

“Try to hit the same place three times in a row,” Enan said after a few minutes of watching his newest charge. The boy wasn’t bad, but it was clear he didn’t have much experience with bladed weapons; the kid had gained even more small scratches from practicing with the whip. At least no one had told the wizard to keep his weapon war-sharp or Kiran would have wounds a lot deeper than the ones the Weapons Master could currently see scattered across his form.

The wizarding teen nodded in response to the order and switched back to an upward wrist movement – it was so much easier to control – before aiming for a prominent knot on the stump. Kiran slashed a trio of marks onto the knot before settling down and deepening the center mark with three successive strikes. The human ran through the exercise three more times before a touch on his shoulder interrupted his concentration and Kiran stopped so he could turn and look at Enan.

“Try it with your left hand,” the werewolf said as soon as Kiran stopped, the odd comment coming straight out of left field and leaving the wizard a little bewildered at what Enan meant by the words.

“Okay,” Kiran answered slowly as he moved the whip from his right hand to his left. He didn’t know why Enan had told him to use his other hand, but the werewolf was the Weapons Master for a reason and he hadn’t given him a reason to doubt his words.

“When you can hit the trunk in the same place three times in row, I want you to do ten sets of three before switching hands and repeating. Keep doing that until I come back,” the Weapons Master said after a few more minutes of watching Kiran work with the chain whip.

The teen nodded and worked on learning how to move his left wrist to get the correct motion from the whip in his hand. Kiran definitely wasn’t left-handed, but the wrist movement was simple enough that the teen could manage it relatively easy due to his experience with using his left hand when his right had been injured in some way. Sometimes the injury had been due to Dudley and his Harry Hunting and other times Vernon or Petunia had given a punishment that resulted in a sprained wrist; either way being forced to finish his chores had given him a more than passing familiarity with working left-handed.

Eventually Kiran was able to hit the tree trunk using an upward wrist motion with his left hand and began the exercise Enan had assigned. The teen managed to hit the same place on the knot three times about fifteen minutes later and started counting down to the completion of ten sets of three. Kiran finished two sets of ten with each hand and had just started a third set with his left hand when Enan reappeared at his side.

“That’s it for today,” the Weapons Master said with a nod towards the deep scar on the tree stump. “Don’t practice with any weapons unless I’m there to supervise.”

Kiran acknowledged the order and started to move towards the tree where he left the rest of his gear when Trystan suddenly appeared next to him on the path. The wizard decelerated slightly, curious about what the other teen wanted. Kiran certainly appreciated the way Trystan had slowed down so the wizard could keep up when they were jogging earlier and the self-defense help would probably prove invaluable, but the wizard was pretty sure that he’d be able to find his own way back to the tent and he couldn’t think of any other reason for Trystan to approach him again.

The werewolf easily kept pace with the wizard for a few seconds as he thanked Kiran for lunch before casually brushing shoulders with the other teen and leaving the clearing in a different direction. The human tilted his head to the side at the odd interaction – Trystan had thanked him for lunch right after they finished eating – and shrugged. He’d never been very good at figuring out why his friends did things, so trying to understand the motivations of someone he’d just met simply wasn’t going to happen.

He picked up his things and took the long way home, tracing his way back through the teen’s meeting place before going back to the tent he called home with Remus. The whole way Kiran would swear someone was watching him again, but the only odd thing the teen saw were glimpses of a grey-white something that darted in and out of the trees. Kiran eyed the last place he saw the blur cautiously and sped up; being ambushed was not on his to-do list today. Thankfully the teen reached the tent quickly and slipped inside, assured that Remus’ wards would keep out whomever or whatever had been stalking him.

Kiran put away his gear in his room and pulled out the bruise balm so he could put it on his wounds. The bruises immediately started to fade and feel better, although the cuts he’d evidently gotten while practicing with his whip simply stung. Evidently ‘bruise balm’ only worked on bruises; he’d have to find a different potion to heal the cuts after dinner.

The wizard moved back towards the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboard to find ingredients for dinner. Remus had clearly stocked the tent well, because Kiran easily found what he was looking for and started to make two separate sets of dough. He planned on making pasties for dinner with some sort of fruit turnover for dessert, so one set of dough was light and sweet for the fruit and the other was sturdier in order to support the more hardy weight of the pasty fillings.

Remus came home just as Kiran started cutting the vegetables he’d pulled out of the fridge and cleaned. The teen let his Guardian settle down at the table before he asked the question that had been bothering him since he attended weapons practice.

“Remus, why exactly are there so many young werewolves in the Pack if you don’t allow them to bite children and neither did the Alpha before Fenrir?”

“Most of them are born werewolves, but in the short time Fenrir was Alpha he did encourage his men to bite children – even if only one in twenty survived the bite and their first transformation at such a young age without Pack support,” Remus said as he got up and started a pot of tea. He wasn’t going to have this discussion without a large cup of mint and yerba mate tea with honey.

Thankfully the tea brewed quickly and Remus strained out the tealeaves before adding honey to the pot and pouring a mug for both himself and Kiran. The werewolf set the teen’s mug down next to the cutting board and settled into one of the more comfortable chairs at the kitchen table.

“Is there a difference?” Kiran asked right before he stopped chopping vegetables and picked up the mug to take a sip. No wonder Remus liked the mix; the sweetness of the honey blended well with the refreshing mint and strong yerba mate to create a pleasing taste.

Remus took a sip of his own tea and thought about how he wanted to answer Kiran’s question. The British Wizarding World had never acknowledged that there were two different ways of making werewolves in a deliberate ploy to keep werewolves classified as dangerous magical creatures – after all, if they couldn’t reproduce biologically, then they couldn’t be human. That’s not to say that having a born werewolf child was easy; the mother had to have the will power to resist the call of the moon and the change from the night of conception through the entire nine-month pregnancy. An expecting mother couldn’t change forms because her werewolf magic wouldn’t affect the child inside her, instead seeing the child as something foreign that needed to be removed. Remus would freely admit that was one of the odder things about being a werewolf; the fact that werewolf magic considered the wolf form as safer than the human one and tried to enhance the safety of its bearer by healing the were during the shift.

“There are three main differences: one, born werewolves are never actually bitten and inherit the gene from two werewolf parents that conceive as humans on the night of a full moon; two, the transformation is easier and less painful for a born werewolf because it is already in their genes and they grow up with their wolf rather than having the wolf thrust upon them the moment they’re bitten; three, it’s easier for a born werewolf to learn how to ignore the call of the full moon or transform when there isn’t a full moon,” Remus finally answered.

“That’s not to say that bitten werewolves can’t do the same, just that it’s harder for us to learn how because we first have to accept our wolf and the instincts that come with it before we can even think of transforming freely. This was the most I’d ever tried before coming here,” Remus said as he gestured towards his elongated canines and vivid amber eyes with hands that were tipped in hard claws.

“Trying to transform without the call of the moon isn’t very safe when you don’t have a Pack because the transformation enhances the wolf’s drive to bite others and surround itself with Pack members. Wolves are, and have always been, creatures that take comfort in packs and thrive when working with others of their species, which means that the need for Pack is a defining characteristic of werewolves.”

“But you didn’t bite anyone while you were at Hogwarts,” Kiran said as he finished cubing meat and switched to a clean knife and cutting board for the fruit.

“I had the urge, but the Marauders acted like enough of a Pack for me to keep it under control,” Remus responded with a smile. The Marauders might not have been wolves, but the way they operated was close enough to a Tribe that his wolf had been appeased.

“And afterwards?”

“I stopped practicing and avoided people near the full moon,” the Alpha said as he got up to refill their mugs.

“Why do I have to stay in the tent on full moons if you can control the urge to bite?” 

“The human can control the urge to bite,” Remus corrected as he set down his cub’s mug. “The wolf sees anything human as not-Pack, a condition that the wolf tries to correct immediately.”

Kiran absently nodded and reached for the mug with one hand as he moved some cut peaches into a bowl with the other. When the teen didn’t immediately come in contact with the cup, he looked up from his task and began to search for the tea. He had to move several over-flowing bowls in order to find his mug and gratefully took a sip once it was discovered. After Kiran had taken a drink, he actually looked around the counter where he’d been working and registered the fact that he’d filled several bowls to the brim with chopped fruits and vegetables; the amount of pasty and pie filling he’d accidentally made would create enough food for Remus and he for several days. 

The teen cocked his head to the side as he considered the filling and shrugged; he’d set aside enough for tomorrow’s dinner and Remus’ lunch before taking the rest of the food with him to practice tomorrow and sharing it with the other teens. Trystan and Killian hadn’t seemed to mind sharing food today and maybe tomorrow he’d be able to ask Reid to join them too.

Kiran went about making the pasties and fruit pies as he made small talk with Remus about what each of them had spent the day doing and plans for later that week. The werewolf needed to send an invitation to visit to the East Asian Kaito Pack – evidently Fenrir had offended somebody from there in the short time he was Alpha – but Remus was simply thankful that it wasn’t the Russian Milek Pack because he hadn’t liked the last few members he’d met. That Pack tended to be rather brutal and unnecessarily cruel, often considering humans to be merely property and treating them like pets; Remus didn’t want any of the Milek wolves near Enzo Pack lands or his cub.

The wizard popped a few pans full of pasties and pies into the oven and had Remus set an alarm spell to tell them when dinner was done. The Alpha said he could deal with taking the out the pans and popping in a new set, so Kiran settled down on one of the couches and steeled himself to explore his mindscape. 

Kiran took a deep breath and summoned up the image of a snowflake, letting his mind wander down the twists and turns of the ice crystals as white filled his vision and he stumbled into his mindscape. Thankfully the snow falling in his mindscape this time was rather sparse in nature and it was easy for Kiran to take a look around. The teen was standing on a flat plain with some rather sheer cliffs on one side and tall mountains piercing the grey sky nearby. Kiran started walking towards the cliffs, scuffing his feet as he went and eventually uncovering some rather vivid gems embedded in the ice beneath his feet. The wizard paused for a moment and bent down to brush away more snow and run his hand across a gem that was partially protruding from the ice. Kiran could see a few more colored blurs underneath the ice that the teen presumed were more gemstones, but there was no way to reach them. He had no idea what the stones were and eventually gave up on trying to pry the blue jewel out of the ground in order to explore the nearby cliffs.

They looked to be formed from solid ice and had symbols that Kiran recognized as Runes carved randomly into their surface. The teen walked along the edge of the cliffs, trailing one cold hand along the rather smooth wall until his fingers discovered a ledge and Kiran paused to investigate it. It looked like there were a series of ridges – almost like handholds – moving up the cliff and the teen eyed them warily. He’d never climbed a cliff before and it would be just his luck to fall and break his head open in his mind, thereby turning himself into a vegetable.

Remus shook Kiran awake to eat dinner before the teen could decide whether or not he wanted to risk climbing the cliffs and the two wizards eagerly started in on the feast. There really was too much food for just the two of them and the extra wouldn’t be able to fit in the tent fridge. Kiran set their favorites to one side before he started rummaging around for containers. The teen didn’t notice when he reached a little too far for a container and one of his cuts opened, but Remus eyed the new blood with unease.

“Episky works well on small stuff like that,” the werewolf commented from the table as he floated the containers down from the shelf Kiran couldn’t quite reach. 

“I’ve got a potion,” Kiran replied absently as he arranged lunch for tomorrow. It’d be easier if his food was separate from the rest; that way the wolves could simply start eating as soon as the food was available. Once lunch was taken care of, the teen packed up the food he’d set aside for dinner tomorrow and made sure the bounty could actually fit inside the tent’s fridge.

“Are you heading back to your mindscape?” Remus asked as he got up to make a cup of tea.

Kiran nodded to Remus in response and finished rearranging the fridge before heading towards a couch. He wanted to see what was at the top of that cliff before he fell asleep tonight.

“I’ll wake you before I head to bed,” the Alpha stated as he summoned a stack of papers and sat back down at the table with his tea to work.

The teen closed his eyes once he was comfortably settled on the couch and focused on the snowflake image that helped him access his mindscape. Kiran appeared in the icy plain of his mind rather quickly and looked around in disappointment. He had hoped that he’d be at the cliffs again, but it didn’t seem like his mind worked that way. The wizard frowned but started walking towards the cliffs when his surroundings suddenly blurred and his next step almost caused him to run into a wall of ice. He looked up at sheer cliffs in astonishment before shrugging and moving to investigate the series of ridges in the ice he’d found earlier. 

Kiran dusted recently-fallen snow off all the ice ledges he could reach and eyed them carefully; they looked wide enough for his feet… The teen lifted his left foot and set it on the lowest self in order to see if it could bear his weight before reaching up to grab a higher ridge with his right hand. Kiran picked up his right foot and waited a moment with all his weight resting on the two ledges before setting his right foot on a higher ledge than his left and carefully starting to climb.

As Kiran scaled the ice, the snow-laden winds of his mindscape began to buffer his body and darken the sky. Slowly the distance between ridges became larger and larger while the handholds became smaller and smaller. Eventually he was hanging onto the cliff by the tips of his fingers, unable to find the next ledge in the dark of his mindscape. The teen could feel the wind plucking at his clothes with icy fingers and pressed close to the ice in an attempt to avoid falling.

Suddenly a strong gust whipped past the cliff and unbalanced Kiran; his frozen hands slid against the cliff from the unexpected force and a second ice-laden wind caused the wizard’s arms to pinwheel as he fell away from the cliff. His tilting body caused his feet to slip from their precarious position and suddenly the teen was free-falling through the air.

The teen could feel the pressure against his back as he fell and the rush of air past his face as he frantically tried to think of a way to stop his decent. His wand had never appeared in his mindscape and he was pretty sure that he couldn’t access his magical core like usual while he was in his mindscape – not that he would have the time before he hit the ground.

Kiran felt something shake his shoulder, a motion which upset his balance and caused the teen to start falling head-first towards the ground. He could see the ground rushing up to meet him and moved his arms to shelter his head from impact, doing his best to ignore the way the shaking of his shoulders was causing his head to move. The teen felt a particularly sharp shake that snapped his head back moments before his arms collided with the ground and opened his eyes to find Remus staring down at him worriedly.

“Cub?”

“I’m fine, Remus,” Kiran pushed himself upright with one arm. “Just startled.”

The werewolf looked dubiously at the teen, but let the matter drop in favor of reminding Kiran that it was past midnight and Remus was heading to bed. The teen nodded and headed to his bedroom to perform his usual nightly rituals.

As Kiran was climbing into bed for the night, he remembered that he’d made a healing sleep potion this week and went to search his potions supply for the bottle. It wasn’t very hard to find and the teen crawled back into bed before uncapping the vial and drinking the potion. He fell into a dreamless sleep rather quickly as a result and his various hurts began to slowly heal.

.~.~.~.

He woke up Friday morning exactly ten hours after he had fallen asleep the night before and said a quick tempus charm to determine the time. When the wispy numbers showed that it was 10:30 am, Kiran cursed and rushed out of bed. He was over an hour and a half late to meet the wolves and he still had to get fresh clothes, find his weapons, grab lunch and make his way to the clearing. 

Kiran rushed through putting his clothes on and snatched his weapons before dashing into the kitchen and stuffing the prepared lunch into a bag. He tumbled out of the tent and looked up to find a smoky-white owl starring at him with startling dark silver eyes. The teen dropped his bag in shock at the sight and took a closer look at the bird. It had rather distinctive barring on its wings that matched the misty-black of its talons and beak. He felt a pang of longing for Hedwig at the sight of the strange owl, but when he took a step towards the bird, it immediately mantled and disappeared into the canopy.

He tried to follow it, but the owl seemed to melt into the surroundings and he tripped over his fallen bag on the next step. The action brought to mind the fact that he was late for meeting the werewolves and he hurried towards the clearing. The teen had a hard time juggling everything in his arms and stumbled into the clearing two hours after everyone else.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kiran panted as he dropped his gear and bent over so his hands were braced on his thighs. “Potion didn’t have a warning label.”

Trystan looked at the wizard for a moment before nodding and helping Kiran move his things beneath a nearby tree. The werewolf led him through a series of stretches and then set him to practicing self-defense against Killian as Trystan critiqued them both. The comments Trystan directed at him made sense to the wizard, but he didn’t quite understand why the werewolf kept telling Killian “watch your fingers” and “keep control” at odd intervals. Kiran shrugged it off as part of the two werewolves’ friendship and concentrated on his own actions; he wasn’t good enough to think about something else while he was fighting right now and his mind was fully occupied trying to evade Killian.

At about noon Trystan called a halt to the practice and Kiran asked the three werewolves to share lunch with him before weapons practice. Killian and Reid both looked at Trystan before answering, but once the mahogany-haired teen accepted, the other two werewolves had no problem doing the same. The three wolves once again allowed Kiran to take first pick before Trystan, Killian, and then Reid demolished the remaining pile of food with cheerful smiles and compliments to the chef.

“I’m glad you like it,” Kiran admitted as he finished one of the raspberry fruit pies. “I cooked too much last night and I wasn’t sure you would.”

The teen licked his fingers to get the last of the filling and missed the considering looks all three werewolves exchanged. 

Reid darted a quick glance at Trystan before starting to speak. “I hope you don’t mind if I leave early.” This time the dragon-obsessed werewolf looked at Kiran. “I forgot my spear back at the tent.”

Kiran furrowed his brows in thought for a moment before he replied, his voice slightly puzzled. “That’s fine.”

Reid gave a bright grin before he departed and Trystan caught Kiran’s attention by starting to speak. “Ready for practice?”

“Yeah, I just hope I don’t get so many cuts this time.”

“We’ll walk with you,” the werewolf said as he gestured towards himself and Killian.

“I think I can find it on my own this time,” Kiran said as he stuffed the containers from lunch back into his bag and missed Trystan’s frown. “But I wouldn’t –”

Killian walked over to the kneeling teen, picked up the bag the moment Kiran was finished and started walking away; Kiran couldn’t help but think that the bag looked rather odd next to Killian’s over-sized war hammer. The human teen got to his feet and rushed after the silent werewolf. When he finally caught up, Kiran smiled and thanked Killian. Trystan rejoined the group a few seconds later and all three teens proceeded to make their way to weapons practice. 

“What did Enan start you on?”

Kiran startled at the sound of Killian’s voice before looking at the normally soundless wolf and smiling. “A chain whip.”

“That’s an odd choice,” Trystan said slowly.

“Works just fine,” the human responded with shrug. It became easier to control with practice; he’d been absolutely horrible with a normal whip and there was no way he could lift any of the weapons the wolves wielded so casually.

The mahogany-haired male looked Kiran over from head to toe before they entered the clearing for weapons practice and gave a nearly invisible frown. Right as he was about to speak to the other teen, Enan sent everyone on a warm-up run; both werewolves were careful to keep pace with Kiran and, just like the day before, the three teens were the last to enter the clearing.

Enan immediately appropriated the human teen and set him to practicing with his chain whip while Trystan sparred with Wenlock again and the Weapons Master worked with Killian on the more structured forms for using a war hammer. Kiran learned more about manipulating his weapon over the next four hours, focusing on the way that the whip moved in response to different hand motions. He spent some time linking movements together and watching the chain react before he was confident that he could at least avoid the whip when using it – even if he wouldn’t be able to hit anything yet.

At the end of practice Trystan repeated the ritual from the day before, brushing shoulders with Kiran before the leaving clearing, and the green-eyed boy headed towards his tent with a new set of cuts and bruises. He spotted something grey-white following him through the trees and sped up to enter his tent, missing the smoky owl from earlier settling on a nearby tree in his hurry to get behind the tent’s wards.

Once he was safe inside, Kiran looked down at his injuries and cocked his head to the side. The bruise balm would take care of the bruises, and the potion he took the night before had healed his cuts but tasted horrible and caused him to sleep through part of practice. It was pretty much useless Kiran was injured enough to need serious bed rest; he needed a variation that wouldn’t cause him to sleep for ten hours straight and a better taste would simply be a welcome bonus. 

The wizard grabbed the potions book and pulled out his cauldron before he checked the fire. His next step was to make sure he had twice the quantity of each ingredient the potion required and that all of them had been prepared properly; he was going to experiment with the recipe and he knew he wouldn’t succeed on the first try.

For his first attempt Kiran switched Siberian ginseng for the valerian root, and followed the rest of the recipe to the letter. One of the books had suggested the substitution for a different potion and the teen thought he’d try it first to see if it worked. The final result was an amber-colored solution that smelled like molasses, which meant that Kiran’s first alteration was a bust and substituting Siberian ginseng in the recipe for healing potion did not actually result in a healing potion as the final product. The teen wasn’t sure what the potion could be used for, but he bottled it up anyway, labeling it ‘Healing Sleep – Molasses’ and stashing it somewhere in with his other finished potions. He’d figure out what it did later when he had time.

Taking a small break before starting his next try, Kiran made himself a cup of mint and yerba mate tea and drizzled honey into the cup before stirring it and taking a sip. As he slowly consumed the drink, he perked up due the caffeine and sent a sharp look at his cup. If the tea acted as a stimulant, then why couldn’t he use it in his potion?

The teen carefully made a large pot of mint and yerba mate tea with distilled water and strained off the leaves before setting the pot beside him and grabbing the jar of honey he had been using earlier. Kiran then checked the level of the fire beneath his cauldron before pausing and taking another look at the potion’s recipe. The only place to add an actual liquid and not a distillation, extract, or oil, was at the beginning in place of the distilled water. Kiran didn’t know much about potions, but cooking for the Dursleys had taught him that adding the honey to the base would be bad due to the fact that the process of broiling would likely burn the honey. Therefore the best place to add the honey would probably be after the powdered moonstone, as he could drizzle it on and make sure most of it was dissolved before he had to apply high heat.

The first thing he did was mix three parts boom berry juice with two parts distilled water and two parts of the strained mint and yerba mate tea before bringing the resulting liquid to a slow boil. This base was a dark russet color, glints of lighter brown and red appearing in the higher levels of the broiling potion. The diced valerian root was added 1/6th at a time between seven clockwise stirs before the moondew extract was poured into the cauldron as the instructions specified.

The next step was to sprinkle powdered moonstone on top of the potion and drizzle honey across the powder in crisscrossing stripes. Once the powder and honey sunk past the surface tension holding them up, the potion turned shimmering white with hints of light gold and Kiran gave it three quick stirs counter-clockwise. The wizard let the mixture simmer lightly for five minutes before turning up the fire until the potion was roiling and adding the distilled asphodel, making sure that the broken poppy seeds were added to the potion as well. 

Exactly seven minutes later, the fire was turned down to almost nothing and the blue poppy seed oil was added to the potion, turning the potion a pale and glistening blue-gold. Eight half-circle stirs on the right side of the cauldron followed by eight half-circle stirs on the left side, then add the chopped passionflower petals and perform two counter-clockwise figure-eights to turn the potion light purple-gold before turning off the fire and leaving the potion to sit for six minutes. The final product was a pale purple-gold that glowed softly, which was rather different from the way the original potion had looked.

Kiran sniffed to check if the scent of the potion was the same and was relieved when it still smelled like the traditional light lavender, although the secondary scent of heavy molasses was rather sweet. That definitely meant that what he’d concocted was a healing potion, although there was no guarantee what exactly the effects of the potion would be. It should be similar to the potion that induced a healing sleep as it had the same ingredients and Kiran had followed virtually the same instructions, but he’d wait until Remus was in the tent this time before trying it out.


	9. Going Gathering

Kiran clawed his way out of a nightmare about Sirius falling through the Veil early Monday morning to find Remus standing beside his bed. The werewolf’s hand was warm on the edge of his shoulder from where Remus had shaken him awake.

Kiran paled as Bellatrix’s insane laughter echoed in his ears, Remus sliding his hand up his cub’s shoulder to squeeze his neck in reaction. Kiran flashed the werewolf a weak smile in return before shrugging off the comforting hand and moving to climb out of bed.

Remus ran a careful eye over Kiran before giving the teen a nod and leaving the room to let his cub get ready in peace. The Otis Pack was arriving at dawn and the Alpha still had plenty to do before their arrival; Kiran would be fine.

Kiran had to pause in getting out of bed in order to yawn and crack his back. He was not in favor of waking up before daybreak for any reason and retroactively debated if he should have taken that healing potion again as he shuffled towards the shower. He didn’t really have a reason to take the potion last night – he’d spent the weekend alternating between learning more about Runes and handling the strands of magic in his core because the wolves didn’t have formal practice on the weekends – but the potion did wake the drinker up healed and full of energy three hours after taking it. He still had a few vials left from the modified sleep potion, although he’d run out of several ingredients for both the healing potion and the bruise balm due to his multiple attempts at brewing the potions.

Thankfully there seemed to be some sort of local Monday Market nearby, so he’d be able to restock ingredients without having to go Brussels. The downside was that the Market opened at sunrise and it took an hour to get there. Evidently weapons practice for the week was cancelled, as several other teens from the Pack were being sent to the Market for supplies and were happy to inform Kiran that the whole group had to get up before dawn because all of the best fruits and vegetables were sold within two hours of opening.

Remus had given them permission to spend the day there as long as they returned before seven and Kiran was looking forward to spending time with the other teens without ending up face-down in the dirt every five seconds. He appreciated all the help they were giving him, but after the first day there really hadn’t been much along the lines of actual conversation between him and any of the wolves. Yes, he’d talked with some of the other guys during lunch, but he still hasn’t interacted with them as peers. The wolves were friendly, but he missed the close relationship he had with Ron and Hermione and the easy camaraderie he shared with the rest of the Ministry Six.

After a short shower and a quick breakfast, Remus ushered Kiran out of the tent and the teen barely had time to grab his satchel before he was out the door. The Alpha guided him towards the group of teen that were going shopping as he checked Kiran had the shopping list the teen had made over the weekend. The human peered over his shoulder a couple of times, still feeling that someone or something was watching him, but reassured that whatever it was couldn’t cause too much trouble with his Guardian around. Taking on a fully-grown werewolf wasn’t advisable, but it was possible; fighting an adult werewolf who was defending cubs, on the other hand, was simply a very painful way to commit suicide.

Once Remus was sure that everyone had arrived, he handed the Pack’s shopping list to Trystan and waved to Kiran before turning and quickly walking away. Kiran waved goodbye to the Alpha’s retreating back before turning back towards the other teens and taking a step back in shock when he found Trystan at his side. The werewolf had been three or four people away when Remus gave him the list earlier and Kiran figured that the group would have already started walking, but it looked like they were waiting for him.

Kiran smiled at the mahogany-haired teen at his side and brushed shoulders with Trystan as he started to walk in the direction the werewolf pointed. Killian and a long-haired teen named Wenlock followed behind as Cadell and Caddock started an impromptu game of tag. The blond twins somehow dragged Idris and Inir – two brothers that had been introduced with Wenlock – into the game, while a quick look back showed Nolan had his head buried in a book as he walked and Reid was talking to Betony and Diantha about something to do with natural predators. In the distance Kiran could see a large group moving through the trees in the direction that Remus has walked, but he looked away when something he spotted from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Something grey-white was flitting through the trees above them and Kiran shook his head to in the hopes that it would dislodge the idea that light blur was following him. The wolves were all carrying their weapons, including Betony who seemed to be using her staff as a walking stick, and Kiran had one of his serpent knives on his belt – the other was in his satchel – even if he didn’t know how to use it yet. 

It would be pretty stupid for someone to attack a group of twelve armed travelers, but he wouldn’t put it past the Death Eaters or the remains of Fenrir’s Tribe. There had been three Challenges for the title of Pack Alpha over the weekend, all of which came from wolves in Fenrir’s Tribe – and that was discounting the three ambushes that made Remus keep him inside all weekend. But there was no way for either group to move through the trees forty-feet above the ground, and now he was back to thinking about the grey-white thing that kept following him everywhere.

Kiran finally decided to start a conversation with Trystan to get his mind off his grey-white stalker and cast his mind around for an appropriate subject.

“How do you know them?” Kiran asked as he motioned to where Idris was hanging off Wenlock’s arm while the long-haired teen and Inir talked.

“Idris is Wenlock’s mate and Inir’s mother is my mother’s cousin.” Trystan gave an oddly soft smile. “We grew up together.”

“That sounds nice,” Kiran replied, the clear longing in his voice causing Trystan to shoot the human a sharp look.

“You don’t have anyone like that?” the mahogany-haired teen questioned curiously.

“We moved a lot,” the human improvised quickly. Merlin, he hoped the lady who they said was his Mum had moved a lot while he’d been alive! “Are you apprenticed to anyone?”

Trystan looked down at Kiran and nodded before elaborating. “Enan has been grooming me as his successor since I turned eight.”

“So what exactly am I supposed to do with this?” Kiran asked as he reached across his body and pulled the serpent knife out of the make-shift sheath on his hip to show Trystan the blade.

“Nice knife,” someone whispered in Kiran’s ear. The teen flinched away from the sound even as he turned and pointed the tip of the blade in the direction of the voice.

“Whoa,” Cadell said as he raised his hands in the air and backed away. “Hey, no offense.”

“Bugger,” Kiran grimaced and put away the knife before continuing, “Sorry. I’m really twitchy right now.”

“Any reason for it?” Wenlock asked as Killian moved closer to Trystan and reached back to free his war hammer.

“That grayish-white thing,” the human pointed towards a light-colored blur that darted in and out of the canopy, “has been following me around for at least the past five days.”

“Creepy,” Caddock said as he popped up next to his brother and Trystan frowned in the background.

“Maybe it likes the way you smell?” Nolan offered from behind his book.

“He smells like a vampire,” Wenlock said as he wrinkled his nose. “It’s not that attractive.”

“Vamps smell sweet and cold, like someone froze rotting meat,” Idris objected as he hung off Wenlock’s arm. “He just smells like cold rain and that odd, soft musk of impending death that people who know they’re going to die get sometimes. You know, the one that people give off when they actually accept they’re going to die.”

“It’s certainly distinctive,” Inir added with a smile for Kiran. The kid looked pretty embarrassed at their frank discussion of his scent and it wasn’t like there was anything he could do so change it. Really, it wasn’t a bad scent; the cold smell of cleansing rain layered with the soft musk of death and edged with the sharp scent of lightning was rather pleasant in comparison to some of the other wolves’ scents.

“Vultures aren’t that fast and he doesn’t smell like fresh fruit or meat,” Reid said as he approached, “so there’s no reason for something flying to be tracking him by smell. He’s not food and most animals don’t purposely track predators like that.”

“It only seems to be following me from afar,” Kiran said with a shrug, “because I don’t think I’ve actually seen whatever it is.”

The group started tossing theories back and forth as they moved through the forest; Wenlock evidently trying to list the most dangerous creatures he could imagine while the twins had dragged Nolan, Inir and Idris into a game of guessing the most unlikely possibilities just so Reid had to find a reason to prove them wrong. Killian kept a wary eye on the flickering grey-white blur while Trystan drew Kiran into a conversation about blades and Diantha walked behind them with a leather-clad arm and a strung bow.

Conversation quieted as they approached the Market and Trystan led them unerringly towards a large produce stand across from a fabric booth. “Wenlock, Inir, Idris, you’re with Diantha and Nolan on fabrics.”

Those five werewolves moved towards the fabric-filled booth while the other six wolves promptly started to make their way through the crowd surrounding the fruit and vegetable stand and Kiran simply stood there watching them. Trystan hadn’t told him what to get for the Pack and the tent he shared with Remus was still well-stocked, so Kiran didn’t have anything he needed to buy. The teen eventually wandered closer to the produce stall, but simply ended up hovering at the fringes until one of the wolves caught his attention.

“You know how to pick a good melon?” Reid asked as he held up a dark green oblong in one hand and a pale sphere in the other. “Betony’s busy picking tomatoes and the twins already broke two.”

Kiran smiled at the teen and walked forward to help Reid. He’d certainly gone shopping enough for the Dursleys, so choosing a few melons wouldn’t be a problem.

.~.~.~.

After the wolves were finished paying for the fruit, vegetables, bolts of cloth and thread they’d selected, Kiran fished out his ingredient list and started to walk down one of the market isles that seemed like it might have what he was looking for.

Reid darted a glance at Trystan before plucking the list out of Kiran’s hands and causing the teen to stop in his tracks. The redhead simply handed the list over to Betony, who took the self-inking quill Trystan offered and carefully used it to cross out some of the entries.

Betony gave a cautious smile as she handed the list back to Kiran. “We could gather some of those locally.”

“Let’s go tomorrow!” one of the twins piped up.

“Strawberries!” exclaimed the other blond.

“Endives should be ready for a first harvest as well,” Nolan added as he perused a nearby stall for books. “And Syanth was discussing Elderberry Cordial with Betony a few days ago.”

“I have weapons maintenance tomorrow with Trahern, then Father is taking me to the treaty.” Wenlock looked down at Idris indulgently as the other wolf wrapped the dark strands of Wenlock’s hair around his fingers. “Idris, I can’t fight if you do that.”

“Dad says we have to attend treaty negotiations tomorrow too,” Inir said as he grabbed his brother’s other hand and raised it. “Beta’s kids have to go.”

Trystan’s disapproving glare promptly stopped the teen from elaborating, but Kiran had utterly missed the last statement because he’d located a clearly labeled apothecary and darted inside to restock potion ingredients.

Trytan and Killian followed the human into the store to get the herbs Syanth wanted while the rest of the wolves lazed around outside. All three teens shortly re-emerged and Kiran folded his list so he could tuck it in his satchel before turning to Trystan. He was done shopping, but he knew the list Remus gave Trystan had more than three things on it; the mahogany-haired teen would know where they were supposed to go next.

Trystan gave Kiran a sideways glance before walking off in a new direction, Killian falling in behind Kiran easily as the human walked next to Trystan. The two teen’s arms and shoulders bumped against each other as they moved to avoid people carrying large picnic baskets, but most of Kiran’s attention was devoted to looking at the booths they passed. 

Some of it was rather interesting, but the group was still moving forward, so Kiran decided to strike up a conversation with Wenlock when the long-haired teen suddenly appeared between him and Trystan. The new werewolf seemed to purposefully brush shoulders with Trystan even as he avoided touching Kiran in any way. The human really didn’t have anything in common with Wenlock, and the other teen seemed to dislike him, but he was determined to at least talk to Wenlock before deciding whether or not to avoid the werewolf.

Just as Kiran started to open his mouth, Trystan stopped at a large stall filled with weapons and rocks. Wenlock immediately moved up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Trystan as they spoke to the proprietor while the rest of the werewolves spread out and investigated nearby stands.

As the two werewolves haggled with the stall’s owner over the price of weapon oil and coal, Kiran noticed a nearby stand selling amber and odd-looking black fragments. The human teen started to move closer to the stall in order to figure out what the dark fragments were made from – oddly enough, they reminded him of Norbert’s egg – but the amber seemed to flicker black from the corner of his eye and gave him the shivers like that creepy smoke-filled ball had in Diagon Alley.

Kiran flinched backward when he saw something grey-white swoop by from the corner of his eye and then abruptly minced sideways in order to avoid getting closer to the crones selling the flickering amber. Kiran’s sudden movements made him bump into a nearby stall and he looked down to find an old chessboard digging into his leg. 

The teen reached down to move the chessboard back onto the table, but his thumb slipped from the queen’s square to the king’s, which seemed to sink down under the pressure of his grip. Kiran didn’t think anything of the sensation until part of the chessboard’s base jutted out as he set it back on the table. He frowned as he removed his hands and found that the king’s square was depressed into the board. Break it and buy it, but he had no use for a broken chessboard.

“I see you found the secret compartment, good sir,” a jovial voice said from beside the teen.

Kiran winced and cursed under his breath as he turned towards the noise to find a plump old man hovering at his elbow.

“All Isla Studio boards traditionally have a compartment that opens when the king’s square is fully depressed,” the merchant said with an ingratiating smile. “It’s a rather open trade secret, good sir, among those who use the higher-quality chessboards. This one in particular was used to pass love letters between the Marquess de Merode of Westerlo and the Viscount Prigogine in the 1500s. The board itself is made from Persian ironwood and Norwegian spruce, with fragrant applewood as for the base. For only 40 galleons, the entire board and the pieces – which were hand-carved by the Viscount for his lovely lady the Marquess in 1520.”

“The position of Marqess de Merode didn’t exist until the 1600s,” Nolan said absently as he grabbed Kiran’s arm with one hand and used his other hand to hold the book he was reading. “We’re leaving, but we’ll need to come back and pick up the coal before we head home.”

“Brilliant.” Kiran said as he walked with the werewolf towards Trystan.

“Only twenty galleons, good sir, for hand-carved workmanship!” the stall owner shouted after the teens as they rejoined the rest of the wolves.

“Do we have plans for lunch?” Kiran asked as he walked over to Trystan. “From all the people carrying identical picnic baskets around, there has to be a place that sells group lunches around here somewhere.”

“It’s not as good as home-cooked food,” Trystan admitted with an oblique smile.

“But it’s pretty decent for market food,” Reid continued with an odd grin.

“Then lunch is on me,” Kiran said as he smiled and headed in the direction that smelled like hot food.

.~.~.~.

Kiran and the wolves settled down in a clearing near the edge of the market with the full picnic baskets. Killian settled down on one side of the human while Trystan sat on the other, and Wenlock took a seat next to Trystan so the four of them formed a small half-circle around two of the picnic baskets. Idris leaned on Wenlock, although the two sets of twins formed their own half-circle around another set of two picnic baskets, while Reid, Nolan, Betony and Diantha were in a third half-circle with Diantha closest to Caddock and Reid across from Killian.

No one appeared to be eating, so Kiran reached for one of the baskets and pulled out enough food for his own lunch before settling back with his plate and beginning to eat. That seemed to be the cue for the werewolves, as Trystan pulled out roasted rabbit, shortly followed by Killian and Wenlock grabbing sausages and meatballs respectively.

Once everyone had satisfied their appetites, conversation slowly arose between the groups and the white-haired Nolan darted a glance at Trystan before speaking to Kiran.

“You sounded rather British earlier,” Nolan said as he turned the page of his book with one hand and ate with the other. “Did you live there long?”

Kiran froze at the comment and then forced himself to pick up a croquette and eat it in order to buy time.

“It’s not exactly normal for us to speak English all of the time,” Reid added, “but Fenrir was English and he made the Pack adopt the language, and the Alpha is also English so everyone just continued the practice.”

“A lot of you sound British,” Kiran ventured.

“We learned the language –” Cadell began.  
“– from British speakers,” Caddock finished.

“We can’t help it if we sound British!” the blond twins chorused simultaneously with rather frightening smiles.

Betony giggled at the two, but Reid simply sighed and reached forward to pull a piece of roasted rabbit from the picnic basket. In direct opposition, Diantha rapped the nearest twin over the head with one of her arrows while Inir flipped the other backwards with part of his halberd. 

Trystan, on the other hand, had barely glanced at the twins and was rather focused on Kiran, prompting the human for an answer.

“I guess I learned it the same way; my mother went to school with Remus, Sirius, and other British-speaking magic users at Hogwarts and I must have picked up my accent from her.”

“You’ve got such little variance from a traditional British accent that I thought you might have learned English from a spell,” Nolan admitted as he turned another page in his book.

“There are actually spells that do that?” the human asked incredulously as he paused in reaching for a waffle.

“Quite a few actually,” Inir added. “Some are language-specific translation spells and others will simply translate the general meaning of any language.”

“It’s a pity that no one’s invented spells that allow people to understand animals.” Reid leaned forward to grab a waffle for himself, but stopped at Trystan’s glare. “It would make life a lot easier if it was possible to actually speak to dragons.”

“I don’t think I’d want to know what dragons say.” Kiran finally brought a waffle to his plate and smothered in it chocolate. That mother dragon from the tournament in fourth year would certainly have been cussing him something fierce and Hagrid would have never let go of Norbert in first year if he’d heard dragon-style baby-talk from the Norwegian Ridgeback.

“I don’t really want to know what my prey says,” Diantha admitted casually as she poured chocolate on her plate and snagged a waffle to dip in the liquid. “Hearing rabbits and deer scream as you kill them would really put a damper on things.”

“It’d be rather distracting to hear bugs all the time,” Idris put it, “especially during a fight. Flies are annoying enough on their own; they don’t need any help. Or mosquitoes. Do you think they’d sound like their mouth was full when they suck blood?”

“What’s left on Remus’s list?” Kiran asked Trystan brightly, ready to try any other topic as long as it didn’t involve insects.

“We have to stop by the coal stand to pick up our purchase before we leave, but the leather stand is the only remaining stop on the list,” Trystan replied calmly. “Once that has been taken care of, we’re free to make personal purchases.” 

“I need new arrows for fletching,” Diantha smoothed her hand down the feathers on one of her arrows. “None of the birds I’ve shot down recently have had good feathers for fletching and I’m beginning to run out of arrows.”

“The coal stand has a whetstone I’m interested in,” Wenlock added. “My old one doesn’t leave my sword as sharp as it used to.”

“Your swords were able to split a falling leaf that landed on the sharp edge when they were first forged,” Idris said absently as he tried to feed Wenlock a chocolate-covered piece of waffle. “I think Inir’s halberd is sharper now though.”

“That’s why I want a new whetstone,” the long-haired were answered calmly as he directed Idris’ hand away from his mouth. “If my blades get any duller, I’ll be bruising my opponents rather than cutting them.”

“Makes sparring with you way easier,” one of the twins commented with a sly smile.

“We actually won a match recently,” said the other short-haired blond.

“Even if it was two on one,” Inir commented as he tried to sneak the waffle out of his twin’s hand. Wenlock had redirected every piece of waffle into Idris’ mouth instead of his own and Inir had no desire to deal with a hyper twin if the other chestnut-haired teen ate any more chocolate.

While the rest of the wolves were occupied with comparing their combat abilities, Kiran leaned towards Trystan and whispered a soft question. “Why didn’t we pick up the coal and put it in my satchel with everything else?”

“None of us are particularly fond of the smell of coal or the raw weapon oil that the stand sells.”

“Even if it’s inside my bag?” Kiran asked curiously. He certainly couldn’t smell anything, but Remus could often smell things long before they reached his nose.

“The herbs you bought earlier are still rather prominent,” Wenlock added crossly as he leaned back against a nearby tree and Idris leaned his head on the taller male’s shoulder.

“I would have bought them right before we left if I knew they were going to bother you.” Kiran grimaced as he double-checked the latches on his satchel. “Sorry.”

“None of the herbs smell bad,” Betony reassured Kiran in a gentle voice. “The mint is actually rather nice, even if it is a little sharp, and the rest of the potion ingredients flux in and out –”

“Do you smoke?” Wenlock interrupted belligerently and continued before the human could answer. “It smells like you have tobacco or something similar in your bag in addition to all that mint.”

“The scent’s a bit closer to a smoky green tea rather than tobacco,” Reid commented carelessly as he reached for another waffle. 

“That’s probably the yerba mate,” Kiran responded absently as he started to pack up the remainder of the picnic baskets from his half-circle, Trystan passing him items quickly once he realized what the human was doing. The other half-circles also began to clean up, Inir working to stop Cadell and Caddock from tossing everything haphazardly into the their half-circle’s picnic baskets while Betony seemed to be placing everything back into the third group’s baskets with excessive care.

“Yerba mate?” Reid asked as he lifted one of the baskets.

“That bitter tea that the South American wolves liked so much,” Diantha explained as she lifted the basket out from under Betony’s hands and Killian took the basket Kiran had planned to carry. “The really strong one they kept trying to get everyone to drink that none of us actually liked.”

“Remus brewed it with mint and then added honey before he gave it to me,” the human commented as he tried to pick up the other basket only to have Caddock grab it before he could reach the handle.

Kiran finally stopped attempting to carry one of the picnic baskets and moved to walk next to Trystan. “After we drop these off, we’ll head to the leather stand?”

“The leather stand, Diantha’s fletching, then back to the coal stand for our order and Wenlock’s whetstone,” Trystan confirmed as he brushed shoulders with Kiran and subtly herded the human towards the towards the leather stand as the other wolves moved in the opposite direction to return the picnic baskets.

“The Alpha asked for armor-grade leather,” the mahogany-haired teen elaborated as they walked. “Dragonhide armor is expensive and hard to obtain. The quantity the Alpha wants to buy would bankrupt the Pack quickly, but leather can at least provide decent protection.”

“Would you mind delaying the order for that leather until I talk to Remus?” Kiran asked curiously as he thought about all that basilisk skin just sitting in the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. “I might know a place Remus could get some good armor-grade hide for cheap.”

“We need the leather for the fights that are bound to occur while our visitors are on Pack grounds,” Wenlock explained sharply as he stopped Idris from going to look at a stand that sold sweets. 

“There’s never been dual Pack meeting that hasn’t had a fight,” Idris added as he pounced on Wenlock and started a playful tussle. 

“The hide is usually layered together and inscribed with runes; it will be just as easy to use it under proper dragonhide if you find a good source,” Nolan commented as he dodged Wenlock and Idris while switching books. “Layered armor is almost always better.”

“Thick hide often limits the wearer’s movement to a point that not wearing it improves the odds of survival,” Trystan elaborated at the human’s curious look. “Certain combat styles require specific types of armor; a knight’s plate armor would do you no favors, but fits Idris’ style very well.”

The mahogany-haired teen paused to look Kiran over. “Chainmail wouldn’t cause you problems, but Antipodian Opaleye or Indian Shivkali would complement your chain whip.”

“Not Norwegian Ridgeback?” the dark-haired teen asked. He knew dragonhide was resistant to spells, but Sirius had used Norwegian Ridgeback battle robes and boots and made sure that the Remus had a matching set.

“Ridgeback hide is great for boots and robes,” Kiran jumped at Reid’s voice, “but they don’t really have the flexibility needed for a fighting style focused on agility or speed. Jormungandr hide would work, but it’s not exactly easy to get and it’s not as spell resistant as other hides.”

“Is a Jormungandr like a basilisk?”

“Jormungandr is the Norse World Serpent – ” Cadell volunteered before Reid or Nolan could answer.  
“ – a son of Loki who encircles the world – ” his twin continued.  
“ – enemy of Thor – ”  
“ – he who poisons the sky – ”  
“ – and releases Ragnarok!” the twins chorused together.

“They’re obsessed with Norse mythology, in case you couldn’t tell,” Inir commented dryly.

“Basilisk skin would probably be better than Jormungandr,” Reid interjected. “Less reactive to sweat and any basilisk over 200 years old would have developed a decent resistance to spellfire.”

Kiran blinked at the statement and the redhead continued. “Any basilisk over a hundred years old is hard to kill with magic and the older they get, the more resistant their scales are to spells of any sort. Of course dragonhides are better at resisting spells, but if a basilisk was old enough, their hide would do just as well.”

“Would love to get my hands on some of that.” Inir sighed as he examined a piece of leather. “My gear’s about ready to fall apart.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kiran commented absently as he ran a hand down a smooth piece of leather. Hard to believe something that soft could be used for boots or armor.

Trystan caught the comment from where he was bargaining with the owner of the leather stand and had to stop a frown from appearing in reaction to Kiran’s odd answer and the proprietor’s inflated price. The Pack had a deal with the leather supplier, but evidently the owner thought he could force a better price out of a new Pack representative.

The mahogany-haired teen settled in for a long bargaining session with the leather stand owner and gestured for Diantha to slip off and purchase her fletching while everyone was absorbed with looking at various leather and hide samples around the shop.

.~.~.~.

The next morning Kiran moved in a triangle between the small piles on his bed, the satchel on a nearby chair and his two hyper owls as he prepared for the day.

The thank-you gifts that arrived yesterday with his owls had been sorted according to recipient and he’d written appropriate letters to accompany them. Remus had double-checked the letters for any evidence that could reveal Kiran was really Harry Potter before grinning at the teen and carefully casting a charm on the Weasley twins’ letter and the copied Marauder’s Manual beside it. The book had disappeared as the text swam across the parchment page before settling back into Kiran’s words. Remus had casually folded the parchment to a more manageable size before handing it to Kiran with a smirk. The teen had tucked it in with the rest of the letters and now pulled out the pile of parchment.

Kiran carefully set the letters on the appropriate piles of shrunken gifts before placing rune-inscribed armbands on specific piles and stepping back to run through his mental to-do list once more. Remus had helped him devise the Rune combinations for the bands and showed him how to imprint the House of Black Crest on the gold, although he had been oddly careful to avoid telling Kiran exactly which runes he should and should not combine after looking at his practice work. Either way, Remus hadn’t found any problems with his work and the bands were ready to be sent off late Sunday night before the trip to the Market.

Trystan had actually accompanied him back to his tent yesterday when the group had gotten back from the market, the taller teen a cautious presence at his side as he talked to Remus about going to gather potion ingredients with the wolves during the second day of Pack negotiations. The Alpha had seemed oddly relieved that Kiran was going to be away from the Pack meeting areas on Tuesday and had eagerly given permission for the outing. Trystan had left shortly after Remus agreed, bumping shoulders with Kiran once more before exiting the tent.

Kiran paused in his circuit for a moment next to his nightstand and picked up the strange letter that had arrived yesterday while he’d been sorting gifts. The teen had avoided opening the letter until Remus had arrived home and checked it over – Merlin only knew what the Malfoys could have sent him in return for that Vengeance Oath – and it had made no sense the first time he read it. Here was to hoping it made more sense after he’d had time to sleep on it.

.~.~.~.

Dearest Darling Daunting Duke of Darkness and Death,

The Sumsets seem to be rather pleasant, but wandering around once the light-giver has started to descend is bound to attract Caleryman. They don’t listen well, because if they did they’d hear the Guarplar whisper of your blood… 

Oh, how it sings to the white ones, as Khthonios Kore’s did before she gained her crown! But you’ll be the chaotic war dance moving through the gates bedecked in gold, the red one singing praises at dusk under the golden tree, the opener of the ways and the guardian of the red crown standing at the gates. For Klymenos has no hold on you now and never will; you have touched not the red fruit of death and other contracts bind your blood to deeper realms and darker dreams. 

Flowing silver will serve you well in the halls of time, but I bid thee seek not silver’s twin until you’ve formed the Gordian knot, for those twists and turns will do much better under your hand than something made for another. Turn not thrice silver’s sibling lest the never-forgotten walk again and the Demlor spread their wrath among us once again. Trust not the Demlor, though they answer your call, for those vicious lords will bind you more than Aidoneus ever could. 

Remember Nargles like to hang around Geengyrports and infest their food and drink, so be careful not to attract even more of them. The finder-stone is absolutely lovely.

Salutations from the Misty White Moon

.~.~.~.

Kiran blinked at the letter and shook his head; sleeping hadn’t helped and the blasted thing had to be from Luna because no one else used that particular phrasing. The teen slipped the letter into a book he’d just finished reading before putting it away. He’d figure it out later.

The dark-haired teen moved towards the piles of gifts on his bed and carefully wrapped each pile in the black silk he’d picked up at the Market yesterday. Remus had showed him how to transfer an image onto the silk and he’d ruined quite a few yards of the protective silk before he succeeded in creating a clear copy of the House Black coat of arms and motto. The symbol and words had been spread across the fabric liberally with additional strengthening charms and he’d barely had enough fabric left to wrap the gifts.

Kiran attached the gifts for the Ministry Five to one owl and tied the other gifts to the second owl before taking both owls to the tent entrance and tossing them into the air. The teen spotted the same white blur that had been stalking him for days and promptly darted back inside the tent. He didn’t know what that thing was and he wasn’t taking any chances.

The teen grabbed his knives from the table by his bed when he re-entered his room and stashed them in his satchel just in case the white blur attacked while he was out gathering. He had no clue how to use the knives, but in a worst-case scenario he could shove the blades into whatever caused problems and wait for Trystan and Killian – or even Caddock and Cadell – to fight whoever or whatever had caused trouble in the forest. Probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, but it’d do until he actually learned how to use his weapons for something other than targeting trees.

Kiran grabbed a package of food and empty containers from the kitchen before shoving them in his bag and leaving the tent to go to the clearing where he was supposed to meet the werewolves. The teen hurried towards his goal, not wanting to travel alone when he knew the white blur was stalking him.

On the way to the clearing, he spotted Trystan waiting near a tree and smiled at the other teen when he bumped shoulders with him. The sheathed tip of Trystan’s enormous broadsword poked the side of his thigh and made Kiran take a closer look at easy way Trystan moved with the blade. He’d seen the other teen practice before, but there was a difference between handling a live blade in battle and moving with a weapon in normal life.

As they approached the group waiting in the clearing, Kiran eyed the easy way that all the wolves handled their weapons and compared it to the unsure way he treated his weapons after the talk from Trahern. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be comfortable with the idea of killing whenever he pulled his blades and the easy familiarity of the wolves set him on edge despite their friendly nature.

Trystan nudged Kiran’s shoulder to keep him walking when he would have paused near the other wolves, Betony moving quickly to walk on Kiran’s empty side as the twins, Killian, Diantha and Nolan fell in behind them at a glance from Trystan.

“May I see your list again?” Betony questioned softly as she flicked a glance past Kiran to look at Trystan as the group began to move out of the clearing. “If I know what you’re looking for, I can coordinate it with the list Syanth gave me and we’ll be able to avoid doubling back.”

Kiran handed over the list without a second thought and turned towards Trystan to ask him a question before Betony’s voice stopped him.

“The best path would take us by the currants first,” Betony put in diffidently as she looked at Kiran and Trystan. 

Trystan altered his course at the words, a careful nudge to Kiran’s shoulder bringing the human teen with him as the rest of the wolves began to chat amongst themselves.

“Is Syanth going to make Bar-le-duc jelly for the Veela?” Nolan asked absently as he mentally categorized the plants they passed. “With the other Pack in the area, we won’t have time this week to de-seed the berries using the traditional method.”

Kiran started at that comment and bit his lip to stop himself from asking a question when he heard the twins start to talk.

“We’ll pick the berries, but we’re not getting involved in the cooking,” Caddock and Cadell said in unison as Betony passed them baskets and the twins started to hit each other with the fragile-looking containers.

“They wouldn’t ask you two again after last time even if they were desperate,” Diantha commented as she glared at the twins and pulled her bow from her back. “Now shut up and stop scaring off all the game!”

The two strawberry blondes quieted down with a glance at Trystan, bounding over to deposit the baskets back in Betony’s arms with roguish grins before eyeing Kiran speculatively. A glare from Killian stopped Caddock and Cadell in their tracks and the twins decided climbing nearby trees and jumping from tree to tree was a much safer option than pouncing on the human.

“It’s a traditional gift,” Betony explained to Kiran softly as she rebalanced the baskets and shook her head at Nolan when the other wolf looked like he was going to pick up a poisonous flower. “The Veela consider the handmade jelly to be a delicacy due to the care it takes to ensure the berries remain whole.”

“The quickest way is to get someone to vanish the seeds,” Nolan interrupted as he pointed to another flower and Betony nodded that this blue flower was harmless, “but any jam made that way isn’t considered to be authentic and finding goosequills in this area can take longer than actually using the quills to remove the seeds. Syanth learned the proper recipe several years ago and it’s become tradition to give the gift to French Packs and Veela when we see them.”

“She wants also wants blackcurrants for crème de cassis,” Betony put in softly as she twisted her fingers in her hair with one hand and gripped her staff with the other. “For the Veela.”

“That’ll be quite a gift,” Nolan commented with a frown as he bent down to look at an oddly colored flower. “Will she have enough time for all of that?”

“Any visit to the Veela Conclave will be a minimum of three weeks away,” Trystan responded as the group entered a well-lit clearing populated by bushes covered in thick clusters of glossy multi-colored berries.

“Busy month,” Diantha commented as she shot a rabbit that darted out of the bushes at the twin’s noisy entrance into the clearing and moved to toss it in her game bag. “Fenrir’s ability to increase his own horrible reputation was unparalleled.”

“So all the people I saw arriving yesterday are from another Pack?” Kiran finally managed to ask in the lull of conversation as Betony passed out small baskets.

“The Otis Pack of Eastern Europe was the group that received the majority of your Initiation Gift,” Trystan replied as he passed a basket to Kiran before carefully reaching out to pluck a large redcurrant cluster from a nearby bush.

“The Otis Pack Alpha is rather nice,” Betony commented cautiously as she looked around for the twins in order to give them back their baskets, “but, ah, the majority of that Pack, well, they don’t really –”

“They don’t like humans,” Diantha cut in bluntly as she kept an eye on the white blur that that circled the clearing, “and they don’t play nice with other wolves either.”

“Otis idiots – ” Cadell said as he popped up behind Betony’s right shoulder.

“ – always give us –” Caddock continued as he appeared at the long-haired wolf’s other shoulder.

“– a good fight!” the twin chorused with scary smiles before grabbing their baskets from Betony’s hands.

“They are rather inordinately fond of fights that only end in unconsciousness or death,” Nolan added as he picked blackcurrants. “And their favorite method to achieve unconsciousness involves making someone bleed out after severing a limb and continuing to attack the disadvantaged or defenceless opponent until they’re bleeding everywhere.”

“The Russian Pack –”  
“ – always fights to the death,” the twins added cheerfully as they popped a few carmine berries into their mouths.

“And you all have no problem with that?” the human asked as he added another set of glossy white-pink currant berries to his basket and deliberately avoided looking at any of the werewolves.

“It’s not like we deliberately try to find those fights – ” Caddock started.

“ – we just finish them,” Cadell said seriously. “’Sneru þær af afli / örlögþáttu.’”

“Meaning?”

“‘En höfum fengit / þótt skylim nú eða í gær deyja; / kveld lifir maðr ekki / eftir kvið norna,’” Caddock continued blithely.

“Anyone want to translate that for me?” Kiran asked again.

“’Mightily wove they / the web of fate;’ ‘And though we die / today or tomorrow; / None outlives the night, / when the Norns have spoken,’ ” Nolan translated absently as he examined the carmine berries the twins had just eaten. “Helgakviða Hundingsbana I and Hamðismál.”

“You die when you die and that’s life. Get on with it,” Diantha paraphrased dryly at Kiran’s quizzical stare. “They quote that passage a lot.”

“Still,” Kiran continued with a frown as he watched Betony and Nolan confer in whispers nearby, “you really have no problem with killing other people?”

“I’ll take my life over theirs,” Diantha replied dryly before loosing another arrow and following its path to retrieve another dead rabbit.

“Trahern said you can’t draw a blade unless you’re willing to use it,” Kiran said lowly as he turned to look for another cluster of white-pink berries, “and I don’t think I could.”

“Do you blame the Alpha for killing Fenrir?” Killian asked abruptly from behind the teen.

“No!” Kiran exclaimed abruptly as he turned towards the quiet wolf. “The man was a psychotic murder who enjoyed biting children!”

“That’s the difference,” Trystan said with an odd seriousness. “A purposeful, malicious plan to kill someone is murder. Killing an enemy in battle is honorable and death in defense of self can be nothing less.”

“Defense of self?” Kiran asked as he turned to face Trystan, absently noticing Betony emptying a basket before going to pick rich carmine berries with Nolan.

“One strikes harder and faster than the enemy to avoid death,” the mahogany-haired werewolf enumerated. “The opponent’s demise may be a regrettable consequence, but one does not mourn them. A worthy fallen foe may be honored, but a weapon is simply another tool for those whose drive to live outweighs any other consideration. A weapon is not what makes them dangerous.”

“Weapons are just easier than doing it by hand,” Diantha said casually as she emerged from the bushes and flicked something off her fingers. “Neater too.”

Kiran stared at the red stains on her fingers before abruptly turning back to pick more berries. He didn’t think he could kill anything that easily. And, okay, he wanted Tom and his masked minions of mediocrity dead, but even after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries he’d never considered how exactly he was going to get rid of them. Yes he’d sworn a vengeance oath on all the Death Eaters present the night of Sirius’ death, but he’d never considered what that actually meant. 

He hadn’t been able to cast the Cruciatus on Bellatrix that night and he couldn’t think of a clearer indicator that he wasn’t geared towards murder and torture like the majority of dark wizards in Britain. He was descended from a number of darker Families according to the Gringotts Inheritance Rituals but he wasn’t obsessed with causing physical or mental pain like most of the Slytherin purebloods he’d met but he couldn’t refute the idea that even purebloods like Sirius – those from dark British pureblood Families that betrayed their Family beliefs by turning to the light side – still bred true. There was no denying that Sirius was a sadistic bastard in school when he was pranking and even Remus had confirmed that the most malicious ideas in the Marauders had originated from Sirius. 

Sirius’ letters over the past two years had made it clear that his Godfather – father, he had to call Sirius father – knew he was a vindictive arse and owned up to it in a major way. He’d extolled the Black heritage despite its dark roots and suggested more than one way to get revenge on Snape or Malfoy. Sirius had held a grudge against Snape for decades and freely admitted the Black’s tradition of wicked obsessions and dedication to vengeance in a warning about Malfoy. The blond weasel had been raised by Narcissa and Sirius was sure the pureblood witch had enforced the Black’s devotion to vendettas on the Malfoy heir. Considering her heritage, Narcissa had been rather proactive in trying to prevent vengeance from Lord Black. 

And if Kiran wanted revenge for Sirius’ death, then he’d have to plan and train to achieve it and the first step was getting used to the idea of killing people. He didn’t think he could ever do cold-blooded murder, but retaliation was fair game and he had a list a kilometer long of names. The only issue was actually killing them and considering he’d never purposely killed anyone, that was a pretty big hurdle.

Betony interrupted Kiran’s thoughts as she pressed a basket full of carmine berries into his hands. “These are the Boom Berries you were looking for.”

“Oh,” the human replied as he looked down at the basket in shock. “Thank you, Betony.”

“Half of these are yours as well.” Nolan lifted another full basket into Kiran’s sight. “Betony wants the other half for healing additives.”

Kiran turned an inquisitive glance towards the long-haired werewolf who ran a nervous hand down the length of her hair. “They boost healing and energy. Syanth knows a way to turn them into energy dust after they’ve been juiced, but the bushes are usually hard to find.”

“Shouldn’t we gather more then?” the human asked as he transferred the berries from the baskets to containers he pulled from his bag.

“We’ve already picked the bush more than is healthy for them,” Nolan answered as he accepted the empty baskets and passed them to Betony. “If we pick any more there won’t be any new bushes next year.”

“So we –”  
“– should probably –”  
“– stop picking –”  
“ – the currants too?”

“Yes,” Betony murmured as she accepted full baskets from the other werewolves. “We have enough berries for now and we can gather more next week.”

“Next are elderberries and asphodel.” The long-haired healer transferred the berries into containers Kiran offered her before returning the full boxes back to the human so he could store them in his bag. “Elderberries are small trees with white flowers and black berries while asphodel is a tall plant with white flower clusters. They don’t grow in bunches, but there should be a few patches of both on the way to the sandy meadow that Trahern sometimes uses.”

Betony darted a glance at Trystan at the end of the explanation, but the taller werewolf had already begun to herd Kiran in the direction of the meadow as the two teens searched for elderberry trees or asphodel flowers.

A shout from the twins had the group veering slightly off course, Kiran carefully picking his way through the underbrush while the werewolves appeared to have very little trouble slipping through the thick vegetation.

“That’s what you want, right?” the twins chorused as Caddock pointed at some tall white flowers and Cadell pointed at a small tree with baby white flowers and black berries.

“Good job,” the huntress told the twins as she fired an arrow at the white blur that had been following them all day. The blur dodged before her arrow reached its mark and Diantha smiled when the white-grey blur retreated further into the trees.

Kiran immediately headed towards the asphodel flowers and tried to snap off one of the clusters. The thick stems refused to break under his hands so he dropped to his knees and rummaged through his bag for his knives. He pulled one out and unsheathed it, laying the sheath on the ground next to his legs.

Kiran raised the knife to cut the asphodel stalks but paused at the feel of a hand on his arm. He followed the arm up to find the mahogany-haired teen looking at his hand.

“Trystan?” the human asked curiously.

“Your blade has an odd shine.” The future Weapons Master frowned as he looked at the serpent-decorated blade.

“Any blade that has a shine like yours can influence the natural properties of the potion ingredients,” Betony explained softly from her position next to him as she cleanly snapped entire asphodel clusters from their stalks with simple flicks of her wrist.

“What’s on your blade anyway?” Cadell asked curiously as he abandoned the elderberries he was picking and reached out a finger to poke Kiran’s blade.

The human teen flicked his knife away from the werewolf’s finger subconsciously as he tilted the knife to get a better look at the sheen he’d previously ignored. The Sword of Gryffindor had had the same sheen the last time he’d seen it and a fair number of the weapons from his vaults had also gleamed in the bright sunlight; even Trystan’s sword had a subtle blue sheen.

Caddock smirked as Cadell missed the blade and took Kiran’s movement as a challenge. He promptly imitated his twin in trying to touch the blade with an extended finger, quickly shifting his trajectory when Kiran frowned as a shadow crossed his blade and moved the blade towards a brighter patch of light. 

Cadell and Caddock made touching Kiran’s blade their new game as the two wolves dropped their baskets near Betony and began to weave around Kiran’s obliviously kneeling form.

Trystan’s glare stopped the twins in their tracks as Kiran gave up on examining his blade and managed to slip his knife back into its sheath without ever realizing that the twins had been trying to touch the blade.

“I have no idea what’s on my knives,” Kiran replied as he fingered the hilt of his blade. “They came this way.”

Trystan eyed the teen carefully before returning to Kiran’s side. “A curved trailing-point blade, like your knives, is intended for slicing. A few judicious cuts and the enemy would lose strength, bleed out and die with little personal expenditure apart from avoiding the blade of your opponent.” 

The werewolf pulled a thick dagger from his belt and spun it around on his palm for a moment. “Daggers like this are meant for thrusting.”

Kiran peered at the blade, tilting his head to the side when he noticed a glossy shine. “This has an odd sheen too.”

“It’s a byproduct of the process used to forge the weapon.” Trystan nodded and flipped the blade so Kiran could grab it by the handle. “Traditional Japanese katana are known for their sheen, although I will admit it is unusual to see the traditional techniques on a Western weapon.”

“So why exactly are you worried about my blades?” Kiran asked as hefted the new dagger in his hand. He had to admit that his serpent blades felt much better in his hands even if he didn’t know why and was glad that he’d chosen the Slytherin-themed blades despite his aversion to the house. 

“The lack of a blunt edge and the odd sheen on the blade make it highly likely your knives are poisoned,” Trystan elaborated with an odd expression. “A single cut could bring death to the enemy.”

“Cut someone once – ”  
“ – and wait for them to die.”   
“Not a bad philosophy – ”  
“ – if rather uninvolved.”

“Efficient,” Diantha corrected. “Almost as good as long-distance kills.”

“Isn’t it a little dishonest? Fighting with a poisoned knife?” Kiran asked as he used the dagger to cut a stalk of asphodel. Much better than trying to snap the stalks by hand like the wolves were doing.

“You lack the time required to learn a proper knife style and your natural style of combat appears to involve a significant amount of evasion.” Trystan’s lips quirked. “Given your general built, such a knife is an ideal choice, as a single cut is all that will be required. Once the enemy has tasted your blade, you will be able to avoid your opponent until they collapse.”

“That’s not exactly fair,” Kiran noted as he added another bunch of flowers to his basket.

“The only goal in true combat is to live through it.” Trystan frowned at the twins and with a curt gesture forced the two to stop playing tag around the elderberry bush. “There is no higher purpose and all rules are insignificant in comparison.”

“And if it’s an organized fight?”

“Challenges are a different matter,” Trystan replied flatly as the twins rejoined the group.

So he probably wanted to stay away from those fights, well, that or only use his chain whip – which he still wasn’t confident in using for anything other than target practice on a log. Not the best option.

“If it’s not a Pack Challenge, then your knives would probably be allowed,” Betony put in softly.

“Vamps actively encourage the use of poisons,” Nolan added absently as he finished picking the bush of ripe elderberries and elderberry flowers. Syanth’s elderflower cordial was second only to her elderberry cordial and Betony made a delicious elderflower syrup for pancakes and waffles.

“Why?” Kiran let the hand holding the borrowed dagger swing by his side as the group moved forward to find another elderberry bush or asphodel cluster. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill opponents?”

“They like to gloat,” Diantha said as she fired into the nearby bushes. “It’s like a competition with them.”

Kiran turned towards Trystan for an explanation, but it was Nolan who answered. 

“Vampires’ lives revolve around power. It’s not enough for them to merely win a fight; they have a driving need to ensure the losers know they’ve been defeated and revel in proving their superiority. Dead enemies mean vampires are unable to glory in their victory, something vital to their psychology and power dynamics. Poisons allow them the opportunity to win a fight and taunt their opponents at the same time. If they think the person’s worth saving they might even offer them an antidote in exchange for their servitude.”

“Assuming they used a poison that actually has an antidote,” Diantha added with a frown as she returned with a dead rabbit in one hand and an arrow broken in half in the other. “Hunting like that absolutely ruins the meat.”

Kiran gave the braid-crowned werewolf a sideways glance at the odd proclamation and shrugged. He wouldn’t want to eat anything that had been poisoned either.

“Please point out elderberries and asphodel when you find them,” Betony instructed as the twins darted past.

Caddock waved a hand in acknowledgement as the twins disappeared into the brush and Trystan began to herd Kiran back towards their previous path.

A soft touch to his elbow had Kiran looking to his left to find Trystan offering him a flat leather object. He eyed the leather curiously before Killian’s nudge to his right shoulder made him realize he was still carrying Trystan’s unsheathed dagger at his side.

Kiran grabbed the leather and slipped the blade inside before attempting to pass the dagger back to Trystan. “Thanks.”

“You may require it shortly.” Trystan nodded the pink asphodel flowers that were visible through what looked to be a newly-cut hole in the bushes. “The twins have decided to frame their findings.”

.~.~.~.

After both Kiran and Betony were satisfied with their yield from the harvest of several more elderberry bushes and asphodel clusters along their walk, Kiran paused before he pushed Trystan’s blade into his satchel.

“Will I need a blade to harvest silverweed?” the human asked curiously as he fiddled with the dagger.

“Silverweed crawls across the ground like strawberries,” Betony replied softly, her voice inexplicably reaching every member of the group as a warning. “Both plants are easy to trample and often shelter small local predators.”

“So I won’t need the knife?” Kiran frowned at the oblique answer and shoved the sheathed blade into his bag when the long-haired healer shook her head. 

“The entire plant can be used,” Betony told Kiran diffidently. “Syanth would appreciate anything you don’t use in your potions.”

“I’ll pull it up by the roots then.” Kiran shrugged; didn’t matter to him if he grabbed just the leaves or the whole plant as long as he had the ingredients for his potion. 

“Less time spent in open areas the better,” Diantha agreed with a frown as she flicked a glance at the white blur following them in the canopy. “That thing broke one of my arrows earlier.”

Kiran frowned and focused on the white-grey thing that had been following him for several days. The damn thing had been following him around every time he left the tent and his nervousness increased every day that they failed to determine what it was.

The path slowly widened until the group entered a large open area filled with a grassy field. 

“Strawberries!” the twins crowed in unison as they darted into the open field and headed straight for bright spots of red scattered across the green vines scattered across the ground.

Kiran ignored the two twins stuffing their faces with strawberries and ran an eye across the grassy field before spotting the small yellow flowers of fern-like silverweed. He headed straight for the plant but paused when light reflected off the sinuous curve of something light-colored and moving.

The teen approached the plant carefully only to find a very light-colored brown snake with darker zigzag patterns down the length of its body and a distinctive set of dark markings on its head.

“Snakes; it’s always snakes,” Kiran cursed under his breath as he shifted the grassy weeds further to the side and eyed the snake. Looked like a girl, the teen thought absently.

He needed that plant but there was no way to get it without moving the snake and he had no idea how to make it move without resorting to Parseltongue. Considering he was Lord Slytherin in all but name, there was no way he couldn’t still speak to snakes. Kiran wasn’t interested in finding out what the wolves thought of people speaking to snakes considering how everyone from Hogwarts had turned on him in second year, but he still couldn’t tell the difference between English and Parseltongue even when he was the one speaking. So, English. He had to speak English and get the snake to move.

“Hey, pretty baby,” Kiran coaxed lowly. “Just need you to move off the plant. Hey, hey, don’t mean to bother you, just need you to shift a few centimeters, just a few, pretty girl. Real pretty patterns, haven’t seen anything like that before; just need you to move – ”

“So do snakes actually understand you when you hiss like that?” Caddock asked curiously as his twin popped a strawberry in his mouth over his shoulder.

Kiran froze at the comment. “I was speaking English.”

“You may have been speaking English but it sounded like snake,” Caddock replied as he picked a few strawberries for his basket. Couldn’t eat them all or Betony would guilt them all to death with that ever-so-mild manner of hers.

“Real friendly snake, but definitely a snake,” Cadell added with a grin as he popped another strawberry in his mouth.

“I was speaking English.” Kiran repeated woodenly.

“Either way, might want to pay more attention to the 3-ft snake,” Caddock said as he pulled Kiran away from the silverweed and the advancing snake.

“Looks like a viper,” Cadell commented as he drew his sword before joining Caddock in his position between Kiran and the snake.

The reptile paused as the Parseltongue was hidden behind the two predators. She had wanted to talk to the dark-headed snake-speaker, but that didn’t appear possible. “At your command, Speaker.”

“It’s gone now.” Kiran slipped past the twins and tossed a grin at them once the snake had disappeared. “You two mind pulling a few silverweed for me?”

“No prob.” Cadell secured his sword again before reaching down to yank up a few plants. The wolf passed the dangling silverweed to Kiran while Caddock proceeded to pick more strawberries for Betony. “You need more than that?”

“No, nine is enough.” Kiran laughed as he watched Cadell pop another strawberry into his mouth. “They are pretty long, after all.”

“Not as long as that snake,” the more talkative twin replied as he added another few berries to his basket. “How did you make it move?”

“I asked it politely – ”

“Is that what you said when you were hissing?” Cadell prodded as he shoved a strawberry into his twin’s mouth.

“ – in English,” Kiran finished firmly as he shoved the silverweed into his bag. “I was speaking English the entire time.”

“Not what it sounded like to us!” the twins chorused before they offered Kiran two gorgeous red fruits. “Strawberry?”

.~.~.~.

The group left the grassy open field for a meadow filled with red poppies and dotted with small pockets of delicate blue flowers. The group gathered both flowers, taking care to gather as many blue poppies as possible so Kiran could use them in his potions. 

Once Betony and Kiran were satisfied with their harvest, the group backtracked to a clearing they’d passed earlier that day. They’d certainly passed a number of open areas over the course of the day, but Kiran was sure they’d pass this one before because it had been the only one he’d seen that had a circular pond. 

The ground looked as if it had been ploughed by a meandering farmer with faulty tools, pale green half moons and scraggly light tan roots strewn across the dark soil. The grass and scattered flowers from earlier had been much more attractive.

“Drunk farmer?” Cadell guessed as he checked his sword.

“The mines are over 12 kilometers away,” Trystan frowned. “It’s time to head back.”

“We’ll keep it short,” Caddock promised as the twins disappeared into the brush.

Nolan immediately moved to gather the palest crescent moons with an odd sort of care. The white-haired werewolf took pains to keep the endives out of the sun as he moved them into a covered container as quickly as possible. 

“Those are asphodel roots,” Betony gestured to the large group of exposed tan roots near Nolan as she moved to gather endives in a different part of the clearing. “Syanth would appreciate any flowers.”

Kiran opened a section of his satchel and started moving the asphodel roots into it, paying more attention to his thoughts than to his surroundings. He was sure they had a few more hours before sunset, so Trystan’s decision to head home surprised him. The group hadn’t really had lunch, but they’d certainly eaten enough berries to tide them over and the wolves had excellent night vision; there was no reason for them to go home. 

The teen fell into a repetitive haze as he moved across the quiet clearing, eventually stopping to gather the scattered roots near Nolan’s kneeling form as the werewolf used his hands to unearth additional endives from the disturbed soil. The rustling in the nearby bushes barely registered – it was probably the twins – as he bent down to pick up a flower.

Kiran jerked his head up when something warm and wet splattered across his face and arms only to find himself eye to eye with a slobbering boar. The throbbing pain in his arm where a tusk had pierced through his bicep came in a distant second to the shock of finding a boar where Nolan had been kneeling.

Something whistled past his face and he watched an arrow lodge at the base of the animal’s ear. When the boar backed away in pain, Kiran shoved himself away from the animal, somehow managing to find his footing in the newfound mud and jerk his arm off the boar’s tusk.

A hard grip on his other arm pulled Kiran away from the boar’s thrashing head as Killian and his war hammer slipped between Kiran and the irate animal. Trystan passed the human’s shocked form to Betony as Cadell and Caddock burst out of the bushes behind the boar and moved to flank the creature.

The twins harried the boar whose shoulders reached mid-chest with taunts and careful sword strokes, alternating sides in an attempt to confuse the large creature as Killian aimed his war hammer at the beast’s tusks. The quiet werewolf landed a powerful overhand blow to the right tusk, fracturing the tooth and sending shards flying. The airborne fragments forced Trystan to dodge as he drew his sword while the other three werewolves around the boar dodged or blocked the shards.

Kiran blinked in stunned shock from his protected position behind the wolves, finally registering Nolan’s trampled form beneath the boar’s hooves, the eyes of his crushed skull glazed in death as his previously pristine white hair became stained with bloody mud. It had been the Nolan’s blood that had splattered across his face and bare arms earlier when the boar had suddenly charged out of the bushes and trampled Nolan to death.

Soft hands on his bicep and a low whine at his elbow encouraged Kiran to focus on Betony as the healer removed patches of fabric from the wound and tried to stop him from bleeding out through the hole in his arm. 

“I know it hurts, but we have to get this clean before we can bind it,” the healer murmured soothingly as she worked to muffle her keen. “You’ll be fine, just a few more seconds.”

Kiran shot her an odd look before shoving his opposite arm into his bag and pulling out his wand. Healing charms would be faster and the basilisk’s bite had hurt worse; she was worrying for nothing.

The teen pointed the rowan wood at his arm and muttered Episkey as he tried to ignore the fact he could see straight through his arm. It was in the same place as the wound from the basilisk’s fang and Kiran frowned as the spell didn’t work. It should have worked; there was no reason for it not to.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his magic before trying the spell once more, being extra-careful with the wand movement and pronunciation. His wound slowly began to knit together under the sputtering flow of magic from his wand and Betony’s surprised eyes. Something about his wand didn’t feel right, the magic stopping and starting without regard to his will before finally coming to a halt as the last of his new skin sealed closed. At least he didn’t have to worry about how to disguise the basilisk’s mark now; he had a new story about how he received the circular scars on his arm and the wolves could back it up.

When Kiran finally refocused on the fight, the twins had closed in and backed the boar against a tree while Killian used his war hammer to block the boar’s forward charges, effecting holding it in place as Trystan landed judicious hits to the large animals’ hamstrings.

Diantha stood ready with her bow, carefully shooting each arrow the moment after Trystan retreated from his forays in order to avoid injuring any of the fighters while she harried the feral creature from a distance. 

Kiran fingered his wand before shaking his head with a frown; maybe he could provide cover for people from the DA because he knew how they moved, but he’d be more likely to hit one of the werewolves than the boar right now and his wand was acting up.

Next to him, Betony gripped her staff firmly and rose to her feet before settling into a guard position beside Diantha. The huntress flicked a dismissive glance to where Kiran was sitting in the dirt with his wand before returning her attention to the fight.

Kiran flushed at the look and pushed himself to his feet just in time to see Trystan dart away from the boar as the animal collapsed to the forest floor. Caddock and Cadell kept their swords out, but relaxed their stances as Killian gripped the boar’s left tusk with one hand and pinned down the broken one with the heavy weight of his war hammer. The silent werewolf make sure he wasn’t blocking Trystan’s way as the mahogany-haired werewolf slid his sword through the front of the boar’s chest to pierce its heart.

Trystan shoved his sword deeper until it the hilt was pressed against the boar’s hide before twisting it to ensure maximum damage and sliding it out. He nodded for Killian to release the boar’s head and Diantha kept a wary eye on the animal to ensure it didn’t injure anyone during its death throes. 

Killian slung the shaft of his war hammer across his back and darted a look at Trystan. The mahogany-haired werewolf’s glance at Kiran told him all he needed to know and he nodded at his blood brother as he moved to check on the human. The twins bounced behind the stockier male as Diantha kept an eye on the boar and Betony moved forward to check everyone for wounds.

“Not a bad kill,” Caddock grinned at his twin as he bounced on his toes, raising his voice to be heard over the dying squeals of the boar.

“Gotta be bigger than anything Jurgen’s taken down,” Cadell grinned back as he twirled his sword to flick blood off before sheathing it.

“Nolan’s dead,” Betony said quietly moved past the group to collect what remained of white-haired werewolf once she was certain the rest of the groups’ wounds were superficial in nature. She could put something together if she had to, but Syanth would be able to do a better job once they were back with the Pack. 

“‘Kveld lifir maðr ekki / eftir kvið norna,’” the twins chorused solemnly. “May his soul fly free and fast to Vanaheimr under the wings of ravens to learn at the knees of the gifted Vanir.”

“None outlives the night, / when the Norns have spoken,” Kiran quoted quietly under his breath as the fact that Nolan was dead hit him. The twins’ attitude towards death was almost disturbingly casual, but considering their beliefs it made at least some sense. For them, the Norns had declared that Nolan would die today and he had, but if Kiran hadn’t wanted to go gathering then they wouldn’t have been here and Nolan wouldn’t be dead.

Killian flicked a glance over the ripped fabric of Kiran’s shirtsleeve to check on his wound before giving a puzzled frown at the scarred skin. Even he couldn’t heal that fast and he was a werewolf. 

The quiet teen turned to walk back to Trystan and inform him of this new development, allowing the twins to see Kiran’s stricken expression and mistake the human’s guilty silence for shock at their words. 

Both twins nodded in unison before crowding around Kiran in order to clarify their words. 

“He was bitten last year and he spent more time with his books than he ever did with us,” Caddock stated with a shrug before he bumped Kiran’s right shoulder.

“We’re sorry he’s gone, but he’s not Tribe,” Cadell continued from his left. “We’ll mourn him with the Pack, but it’s more like a distant cousin or acquaintance died than anything else.

“Large tusks,” Diantha deliberately mused aloud as she looked over the dead boar and frowned. “A Russian boar shouldn’t be this far south.”

“Think it followed Otis down?” Betony asked as she returned to the group, tucking the shrunken container filled with Nolan’s remains safely into her own satchel. She always brought a large self-shrinking container when she went gathering just in case Diantha killed something larger than could easily be carried back; it was the first time she’d used it for a body.

“Too big for a Russian,” Killian’s voice carried across the clearing as he moved back towards Trystan. He’d taken down a Russian boar before and it had been nowhere near as large.

“But it’ll get us at least one fight with the Otis idiots, right?” the twins whined in unison. “Good excuses for fights are hard to come by!”

Across the clearing from the twins Trystan levered his sword to break open the boar’s ribcage in preparation for removing its organs and taking the meat back to the Pack. Killing such a large boar was an honor in and of itself, but bringing the meat back when they had another Pack visiting would serve as proof of the kill and could only enforce the Alpha’s position. The meat would also be welcome considering the feast that would occur within the next few days.

The teens froze for a moment when they heard something large crashing through the bushes before springing into action. Caddock and Cadell pivoted to defend Kiran and Betony while Killian loosened his war hammer as he crossed the last few steps to rejoin Trystan. He wasn’t going to leave his blood brother to deal with whatever appeared without some type of backup when the first surprise had been a boar three quarters of his own formidable height.

As Trystan removed his sword from the dead animal in reaction to the sound, a female boar burst into the clearing to charge Trystan and Killian. 

Killian dodged the attack easily, but the carcass of the dead boar obstructed Trystan’s movements and the new animal managed to sink a serrated tusk into Trystan’s stomach with sickening ease.

Killian swung his war hammer at the boar’s head in retaliation as Trystan pressed a hand to his bleeding stomach and worked to raise his sword against the creature. The sow moved to avoid the blow and tore Trystan’s stomach wound open frther before tossing Trystan into a nearby tree with a meaty thud.

The injured werewolf managed to slash the wild sow’s right eye with his sword as he was thrown, but immediately crumpled to the ground with a choked groan after impacting the tree. The sow took a step towards Trystan before Killian’s swipe at her back leg forced her to turn her attention back to the bigger threat.

Diantha took a deep breath once the boar’s head was clear and calmly loaded her bow before taking aim to loose an arrow that pierced the wild pig’s left eye. 

Cadell and Caddock shared a glance before advancing forward to help Killian defeat the wild sow as Kiran looked at Trystan’s inert form with horror. He’d bled like crazy when he was pierced in the arm; he didn’t want to think how much blood the wolf was losing after being gored in the stomach twice. It didn’t help that the blood from the stomach wound was forming a growing puddle around the mahogany-haired male and Kiran could only watch in dismay as the boar stayed between the injured male and the rest of the group.


	10. Bloody Hands

All the wolves shuddered and started a low keen as Trystan collapsed into the puddle of blood before they exploded into movement. It was likely that the goring had fatally injured Trystan and his harsh collision with the tree would not have helped matters. Nolan was beyond help, but they were going to do their best to make sure Trystan survived this encounter and the first step was getting that boar away from him.

Kiran heard Betony’s low keen of pain at the sight of her Packmate’s broken body as the healer latched onto Kiran’s bag of herbs. Nolan had been a friend, but Trystan was her Tribe alpha in all but name.

Killian, on the other hand, went feral with grief and rage at the site of his blood brother’s broken body. The usually silent werewolf flung his war hammer at the creature and attacked the wild sow with transformed claws and teeth. As far as the dark-haired male knew, Trystan was dead and the loss of his blood brother had driven Killian back to his wolf’s feral instincts to destroy whatever stood in his path.

Diantha was a direct contrast to Killian’s actions, expressing a cold calm that allowed her to stand back and harry the boar with arrow after arrow while she avoided hitting any of the wolves closing in on the injured boar. Even Kiran could hear her bow creak as the werewolf archer fired arrow after arrow at the boar with every ounce of her formidable strength. 

The last arrow veered off course with a crack and almost hit one of the twins while they were doing some odd bait-and-switch with the wild sow. The two werewolves were slowly luring the animal away from Trystan’s bloody body so that Betony – the only wolf in the group that knew anything about healing – could try and perform triage on the alpha. 

Diantha looked down at the split bow in her hands and frowned before dropping the two halves to pull a set of matching hunting knives from her belt. The archer was careful to stand between the boar and Betony – and therefore Kiran – as the group of three inched their way towards Trystan.

As soon as the boar was occupied with fending off the other werewolves and it was safe to join the mortally injured werewolf, Betony rushed towards Trystan and took Kiran with her as the bag was still looped over his arm. She really only wanted the bag full of healing herbs he carried, but taking the human with her wouldn’t be a bad thing; the arm that had been pierced with the male boar’s tusk earlier was already healed and maybe he could do the same for Trystan. Anything she could use to help Trystan survive she would, even if she had to find a way to threaten him into action.

Betony tugged the bag from Kiran’s hands as soon as they arrived and dropped to her knees to dig through it for herbs, yelling for Diantha to go get Syanth in hopes that the healer could arrive soon enough to help Trystan. 

Kiran took one look at Diantha’s rapidly vanishing form and placed himself squarely between the boar and the healer. The three of them were well-protected by Killian and the twins, but at least Kiran could provide a second layer of protection for Betony and Trystan.

Now that Betony had a closer look at the wound, she knew she couldn’t do anything to help Trystan, but she was determined to at least try. She didn’t think Kiran could do anything now for Trystan now, despite what he’d done earlier, but he could at least attempt something rather than just stand there like an idiot.

“Do something!” Betony hissed as she pulled more and more herbs out of the bag and started to strip the leaves to make something useful. At this point in time it wasn’t like Kiran could do anything that could make the situation any worse, so he had no reason not to try.

“What do you want me to do?” the wizard asked as he looked over his shoulder at the healer. He knew absolutely nothing about the healing properties of herbs and couldn’t even remotely be called an apprentice healer; what in the world was he supposed to do? Yes, he’d been practicing his potions lately, but he didn’t have any of them on him right now and he’d never made anything that could be used on gaping wounds. Besides, Betony had already commandeered the herb satchel, so it wasn’t like he could do anything on that front.

“The spell you used earlier; would it work on Trystan?” Crushed herbs were dumped onto the open flesh before Betony carefully began pushing some of the torn flesh together and trying to bind it closed.

“It won’t do anything for a wound like this.” As far as he knew, Episkey was for relatively small wounds – he’d been surprised when it worked on the hole in his arm – and Trystan’s wound was anything but small.

“There must be something you can do,” Betony yanked him down beside her with one hand as she tried to get another herb down Trystan’s throat with the other. Maybe an oral application one would work better; the herbs on his wound certainly weren’t doing Trystan any good. They’d already lost Nolan and they weren’t going to lose another member of their small group if she could help it!

“I don’t know any other healing spells.” He’d never needed them before this – that was what Madam Pompfrey was for – and he’d barely read any of the books that talked about healing.

“Try something!” Betony pleaded as she tried to use bandages to stop the blood still seeping from Trystan’s wounds. Syanth might be able to heal the large stomach wound, but if he died from blood loss before she could reach them then the whole point was moot.

Kiran simply sat there in a panic as he ran through every scrap of knowledge he knew about healing – which could barely fill a teaspoon, much less heal anyone – and the only spell he could come up with was Episkey. It hadn’t worked on his wound earlier until he had ridiculously overpowered the spell – and in fact the spell had done something to his wand when he’d used it. It had felt like some type of splintering and Kiran wasn’t sure what would happen if he used the spell again, but he’d try anyway. Hopefully his wand wouldn’t break into pieces, but he couldn’t not try and help the werewolf. Hermione had called it his ‘saving people thing’ and Kiran gave a wry smile at the memory before taking a deep breath and looking at Trystan’s wound properly for the first time. He’d already caused one death today and he wasn’t going to allow another to occur if he could help it.

Kiran settled down next to the two werewolves and powered up his wand to an absurd level before aiming it at Trystan’s bloody form and releasing the spell. The light from Episkey had barely left his wand before the wood grew hot in his hand and something intangible seemed to break. The feeling shocked him into dropping his wand and he frowned as he bent to pick it up. That hadn’t felt right and he didn’t want to imagine what it meant. His holly wand had never been that hot, so it couldn’t be anything good.

When Kiran picked up the fallen wand, the stick of rowan wood felt almost dead in his hand. This was going to be a problem. His new wand evidently didn’t like casting healing spells and Kiran hoped he hadn’t completely broken it. If he was now incompatible with two very different wands then there had to be something wrong with him, the wizard thought frantically.

To both teens’ disappointment, the spell did very little to help Trystan – a few of the wound’s rough edges seemed to extend inward a miniscule amount, but there was still a large hole pierced through Trystan’s stomach that displayed his internal organs. Kiran tried twice more, but his wand barely reacted, simply giving off a few sputtering sparks as the puddle of blood around Trystan’s inert body continued to spread. 

“We’re losing him,” Betony whimpered as she tried to stem the blood flow and failed miserably. The herbs weren’t doing anything and Kiran had just failed at whatever it was he’d attempted; Trystan was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

The mortally wounded wolf was approaching death faster by the second and there had to be something he could do to prevent it. Kiran wracked his mind for anything else he knew about healing and hazily remembered a spell he’d read in Healing for the Gifted. 

The explanation had been rather brief; it was supposed to heal a person’s body without much input from the wizard casting the spell – which was perfect because the teen had no idea what he was doing. Kiran didn’t know if it would work on a person near death, but it was the only other spell he knew that had to do with healing. Now if he could only remember the incantation!

Salus, salveo, sanitas; it was san- something, blast it all, and he needed to figure out what!

Kiran took a deep breath. Okay, all the Latin Hermione had forced him to learn over the years had to be good for something other than school work. Sano meant heal, and considering the purpose of the spell, that was probably his best bet. He was pretty sure salus meant health or safety and he couldn’t remember what the other words meant, so he probably shouldn’t use them.

Kiran grabbed his wand tightly and pointed it at Trystan, muttering the short spell under his breath and hoping for the best. This was their last chance – Betony couldn’t do anything for the other teen and Syanth wouldn’t make it to the clearing in time. If everyone but Nolan – Merlin, he’d been a casualty like Cedric and he couldn’t think of that now – got out of this alive he was going to make Remus teach him how to apparate, no excuses. 

Apparition and then he’d look up some decent healing spells – he was never going to go through this again if he didn’t have too. Nolan was irrevocably dead and whatever Betony hadn’t collected earlier was trampled into a red mush underneath the boars’ hooves. Kiran was not going to be responsible for another person’s death just because he wanted to gather herbs.

Nothing in his wand reacted and Kiran’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he dropped the piece of wood to the ground. A moment later he felt something stirring in his magic, but nothing was visible happened. He wanted Trystan to live – the older teen had been friendlier than expected and he thought they could have become close friends – but he didn’t think the werewolf would be alive come nightfall. If only he knew how to heal…

The wizard felt the stirring in his magic strengthen in reaction to that thought and encouraged it as much as possible. When he was younger, most of his wounds had healed without medical assistance and this stirring felt like the time his broken arm had mysteriously healed overnight. 

Kiran wasn’t sure how to use the feeling to heal someone else, but he hoped that whatever was stirring in his magic would be able to help Trystan. Despite all the time he had spent organizing his magic, he had no idea how to manipulate the colored threads that made up his core or even what the colors actually meant. He could tie the strands in Celtic rope knot patterns and weave them in and out of each other without causing problems, but he had no idea how to actually use them.

The odd feeling grew and grew inside his magic and Kiran finally identified the feeling it gave him as the same warm glow he felt whenever he handled the green-gold strands in his core. The warmth grew larger and larger in his chest until the teen felt something break and the feeling slowly began to flow down his arms to form a shimmering green-gold glow around his hands. 

Kiran looked down at his glowing hands, shocked that the strand’s color had manifested so visibly, before cautiously moving them towards Trystan’s motionless form. The teen watched as more and more particles of green-gold light left his hands to gather around the werewolf’s wound until there was a veritable cloud of colored magic streaming off his hands to engulf Trystan’s wound.

Ever so slowly the male werewolf’s body began to repair itself under the green and gold glow as Betony watched in shock. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Trystan had been at the edge of death and there had been nothing either teen could do about it, but suddenly Kiran had gripped his wand tightly and whispered something under his breath. Nothing had happened for the first few moments, but after he dropped his wand, a green mist with shimmering gold hints had gathered in Kiran’s empty hands before enveloping Trystan’s wounds.

The wizard could feel himself getting tired as more and more of Trystan’s wound healed under his magic, but the spell never seemed to stop. It just kept draining his magic until the edges of his vision began to blur and he was swaying in his seat. His hands were barely able to stay above Trystan’s still-healing form and he could feel multiple hands on his shoulders holding him up and carefully supporting his shaking arms. 

The moment Trystan’s wound finally closed and all Kiran could see was clean skin, the teen tried to pull the green-gold magic back into his core. Trystan would be fine until Syanth arrived and Kiran had no idea what using that magic could do to him. He had never actually tried to use one of the strands before and now that he was, he couldn’t seem to stop. 

Kiran tried to reduce the magic leaving his core by thinning down the green strand, but the magic refused to do as he wished. An attempt to pull the strand back into his core yielded the same results, so the teen tried to wrestle the strand back to his core but it kept slipping out of his mental hands.

Despite his best efforts, the magic continued to stream off his hands and various cuts and scrapes across the werewolf’s form slowly healed shut. Kiran finally gave up on getting the strand back inside his core and simply decided to cut it. The teen focused past his ever-increasing exhaustion and imagined one of his new serpent daggers cleaving through the gold-tinted green thread. Kiran felt a shock as the green-gold magic hovering around his hands suddenly disappeared and shivered as he tipped sideways.

They never mentioned this in the book, the wizard though hazily right before the black encroaching on the edges of his vision took over and he lost consciousness.

.~.~.~.

“There’s been some pretty bad weather lately,” Molly complained as she bustled back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room table with pots of tea and platters of small foods. 

“Nothing compared the storm at the Ministry,” Arthur replied as he reached for a cup of tea.

“You heard about why Fudge really resigned, right?” Elphias Doge pulled back a chair and sat down.

“Who hasn’t?” Hestia Jones settled into another chair and poured herself a cup. “Skeeter made it front page news when the Brockdale Bridge went down.”

“Voldemort wanted Fudge out of office,” Doge agreed grimly, “and used his Death Eaters to get what he wanted like always, damn the casualties.”

“How bad was it?”

“At least three wizards died and it took the Ministry over three hours to respond.” Arthur refilled his tea and took a bracing sip. “Scrimgeour got the Aurors out as soon as someone reported it, but it took more power than he had at the time to authorize such a massive use of Obliviators. Took the Ministry a full six hours to mobilize and they had to use some pretty complex magic to figure out where all the Muggles that had seen the Death Eaters had disappeared to.”

“Think Scrimgeour’ll be any better?”

“He’s already taken a hard line, but he might be a lil’ too enthusiastic, if ya know what I mean,” Mundungus Fletcher complained as he slumped in a chair across the way. “Nobody’s willin’ to make a proper deal now.”

“Not to mention our new Minister was asking Kingsley and me some rather pointed questions before he was appointed,” Tonks added as she entered the room and managed to trip over a chair and somehow land in it sideways.

“At least Fudge listened to Dumbledore.” Hestia pointedly crossed her legs and took a delicate sip of tea. “Scrimgeour seems to hate him.”

“Fudge listened to whoever had the most influence or money at the time,” Doge interjected with a scowl, “usually Lucius Malfoy.”

“Damn Death Eater,” Moody muttered from a corner before taking a slip from his flask. “Shoulda used lethal force in the Department of Mysteries.”

“Now, now, Alastor, lethal force is never an option,” Dumbledore scolded gently as he swept into the room.

“Albus, your robes are all sooty!” Molly exclaimed as soon as she got a good look at the Headmaster. “Whatever happened?”

“The Bones Mansion was attacked hours ago by Voldemort,” Shacklebolt announced as he strode into the room, ash falling from the hem of his robes with every step.

Dumbledore suppressed a frown at the Auror’s entrance. He had intended to spin the entire affair in his favor. Best to proceed before Kingsley revealed something untoward.

“Luckily Amelia and her niece managed to avoid the confrontation as they were at a last-minute armor fitting for Susan.” Dumbledore beamed at the room. “Amelia was worried about the dear child and insisted she have proper protection outside the Mansion’s wards.”

“The Bones Mansion was razed to the ground when Voldemort failed to find his intended victims,” Kingsley added dryly. Trust Dumbledore to forget about the collateral damage in favor of his ‘greater good.’

“Pretty big temper tantrum,” Tonks muttered to her superior as Molly went about pushing tea and food towards Dumbledore.

“Pretty big child,” Moody interjected as he settled into the corner behind the two Aurors and both turned to face him in surprise. “You need to pay more attention to your surroundings. CONSTANT VIGILENCE!”

The entire room startled at Moody’s well-known catch-phrase, several Order members slipping their wands out of holsters and turning to point them at Moody’s corner.

“Now, now, ladies and gentlemen, no worries,” Dumbledore scolded gently. Some of them were a little slow in drawing their wands, but then again, his Order was meant for something more than mere frontline fighting like Ministry Aurors. “I believe it’s time to start this meeting,” 

Albus looked around the room, checking to make sure all of his Order members were present, but had to repress a frown when he found one missing.

“Has anyone seen Emmeline?” Dumbledore queried gently. “It’s unlike her to be late.”

“Emmeline Vance is dead.” Shacklebolt frowned. “She was killed near the office of the Muggle Prime Minister and three days later we discovered a Muggle Junior Minister with a bad reaction to Imperius. He still thinks he’s a duck.”

“Pity about the poor man.” Molly refilled everyone’s tea. “The casualties just keep mounting.”

Hestia took a delicate bite from a scone. “I take it you’ll be replacing him?”

Kingsley nodded. “Voldemort could cause untold damage if he took over the Muggle government. There’s a position as the Minister’s secretary that’s been open for two weeks now. The change in Ministers has thrown everyone a little off track lately; I was supposed to start three days ago.”

“You should be able to pass as a Muggle easily!” Arthur nearly dropped his teacup in his excitement. “When you get back you must tell me how those felly-tones and bat-ries and cop-yurs and com-pew-tehs and, and – ”

Molly patted her husband on the arm to quiet his enthusiasm. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to speak with you later, dear.”

Kingsley nodded and shot Molly a thankful glance. “I don’t know when the assignment will end, but when it does I’ll be happy to answer your questions on Muggle electronics.”

“I’m sure everyone’s anxious to hear about Harry,” Dumbledore interjected with a grandfatherly smile, purposely ignoring Snape’s frown. The feelings of his chess pieces had no bearing on his plans unless it was to his benefit.

“The Dursleys moved to Canada this spring and were kind enough to leave Harry with a fellow wizard so he could continue his education at Hogwarts this fall,” Dumbledore gave a grandfatherly smile to the group; no need to tell them the truth about the Dursleys. “They claim a shabbily-dressed, amber-eyed man appeared on their way to the airport and they were pleased to allow Harry to stay with what appeared to be a family friend.”

“Remus?” Tonks asked, her hair flashing a brilliant blue before returning to her favored pink. “Why would Remus have followed Harry?”

“Potter is pack,” Severus sneered. “And of course the wolf’s not here. Probably took the spoiled little brat for a vacation to get over the mutt’s death.”

“How could he take Harry away from the safety of Headquarters?” Molly wailed as Arthur patted her hand comfortingly. “The poor dear’s in danger and should be safe behind proper wards to keep him away from You-Know-Who!”

“Remus wouldn’t have taken him far given Voldemort’s return,” Albus said with a twinkle in his eye, merrily ignoring the flinch produced by Tom’s chosen name. “I’m sure they’ve just been spending time in Diagon Alley reminiscing about Sirius under pseudonyms to keep Harry safe. They should be easy enough to find. We’ll organize a search once the meeting is over.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore glanced at his spy and then inclined his head, “if you would.”

“Two nights ago the Dark Lord summoned the entire host of his Death Eaters and proceeded to... express his displeasure at whatever stupidity Potter engaged in after destroying the Headmaster’s office. He sequestered himself in his chambers for the first week after the event and spent the two weeks after fuming in his study and performing an unknown number of rituals.”

The Potions Master paused for a moment before continuing. “It is known that Draco Malfoy was denied access to the Black Family Vault. The current Lord Black’s identity is unknown, but he is high on Voldemort’s hit list for declaring the Rites on the Death Eaters present at the Ministry that were involved in killing the mutt –”

“Don’t call him that!” Tonks interjected angrily.

“I’ve been tasked with determining where Potter has hidden himself this time,” Snape continued smoothly.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with a grandfatherly smile. “Arthur, Molly, please make sure to keep a close eye on Ronald and Ginevra’s mail; the Rites require equal and opposite compensation after all.”

“Is there any chance Harry is Lord Black?” Molly asked as she squeezed her husband’s hand. “Any chance at all?”

“The spoiled brat knows less than a flobberworm about proper Wizarding tradition,” Snape sneered, “or he would have declared the Rites on Black the moment he was legal.”

“Don’t really think those would have taken,” Moody drawled from the corner. “Wasn’t Black’s fault Lord Potter died. Voldemort would have been a better target.”

“Any reason why we can’t swear vengeance on the wanker?” Tonks queried as her hair turned a shimmering dark green and grew to reach her waist.

“The Rites must be enacted by the Lord of a House or an Heir who is of age.” Snape gave a cold smile. “There is a reason the Dark Lord chose to wipe out entire Houses after all.”

“And what, Families just weren’t worth the effort?” Tonks’ hair turned a brilliant, bloody red. Snape just flat out pissed her off.

“Given the Dark Lord’s actions, it is also nigh impossible to fulfill the second requirement of the Rites.” Severus continued coolly, ignoring the disowned Black. “An opposing force must be rewarded if the killer is to be punished in order to keep the balance of magic that the Rites require and the Dark Lord’s first order of business was stomping out vigilante groups.”

“Not like you didn’t enjoy it,” Moody responded as Dumbledore noticed the ex-Auror trade glances with Shacklebolt. Time for him to retake control of the situation before his group decided to argue about Severus’ status once again.

“Now, now, Severus was cleared of any charges after the first war,” Dumbledore scolded gently. “He works for the greater good.”

Tonks’ hair turned a light-absorbing black and pooled across the table and onto the floor at that statement, catching everyone’s attention. Moody and Shacklebolt used the timely distraction to trade speculative glances before shifting their attention to the younger Auror’s ever-growing hair.

“Nymphadora, please control your hair,” the Headmaster admonished. If the girl wasn’t an up-and-coming Auror prodigy despite her clumsiness, he never would have invited her into his Order. Andromeda was friendly enough and Nymphadora was useful, but the girl was almost more trouble than she was worth. She was old enough that she should know how to control her hair by now.

“Don’t call me that!” the metamorphagus hissed as her hair returned to its normal color and length.

“We need to decide which parts of the Alleys need to be searched and who will be making inquiries,” Dumbledore continued smoothly.

“I have some friends that run hotels in the more reputable Alleys,” Hestia volunteered as she set down her teacup carefully. “I am due for a visit soon; a few careful enquiries wouldn’t be out of order.”

“We can always pick up the children’s school things early,” Molly added with a smile. “Strangers are always obvious when they shop.”

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. “I’ll send you the list later today. Anyone else?”

“I’ll be happy to take Knockturn,” Mundungus said with a leer. “Maybe I’ll finally get ’round to makin’ some good deals again.”

“I’m overdue at the taverns,” Doge said as turned towards Tonks. “And I’m sure the little missy here’d be able to ask around Diagon proper without too much trouble given her talents.”

The metamorphagus glared at the older man. “If I’m not on the clock, asking around shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I should be able to check the Registry before I leave tomorrow,” Kingsley volunteered with a pointed look at the pink-haired Auror. “Tonks can bring the results to the next meeting.”

“And, Molly, maybe William could make some inquiries at work about the Black inheritance?” the Headmaster suggested gently. “Surely some goblin handled the vault transfer.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Molly assured as she poured Arthur another cup of tea.

“Very well,” Dumbledore nodded as he rose to his feet. “Please be careful not to advertise who you’re looking for; we don’t want to put Harry into any more danger.”

Albus swept out of the room grandly, Severus following at his heels. The dark-haired man never disclosed the more secretive matters unless they were in a secure location away from the Order. A quick stop at the fireplace for the floo and both wizards were firmly ensorcelled in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts. 

“Another initiation, my dear boy?” Albus asked as he settled into his chair and offered Severus the bowl of lemon drops. Severus hadn’t shown signs of Cruciatus and his robes had been suspiciously flecked with blood during his report after the meeting.

Snape declined the candy with a scowl and sat straight in his chair. “Entwhistle, Higgins, Hopkins, Montague, Bole, Derrick, Warrington, Bulstrode, Parkinson, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott.”

“So many young students,” Dumbledore sighed mournfully to disguise his glee. So many new possibilities for spies that could easily be blamed or discarded. Severus was too useful for him to lose, but newly-initiated members could be easily discarded if problems arose. It was a pity they were still students, and he’d have to keep an eye on them in case they had private orders, but chess pieces were made to be deployed and destroyed by greater minds.

“Malfoy has been assigned to find and kill the current Lord Black,” Snape began. No need to tell Dumbledore about his godson’s second task, the one he had given a wizard’s oath to Narcissa to complete if Draco couldn’t: forcing Dumbledore to reveal the location of Potter and determining what the blasted brat had done to debilitate the Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been in a towering rage about whatever Potter had done and it was highly unlikely Dumbledore wouldn’t make it his own top priority to relocate his chess piece and determine what the brat had done while he was off his leash. “It looked like the Dark Lord was going to give him a different assignment, but he changed his mind at the last minute. Parkinson and Nott are to support him in his efforts.”

“See what you can do to sabotage his efforts on that front until Lord Black declares his stance on the war.” The Rites could be attributed to pureblood culture, but he needed a clearer indication of the new Lord’s allegiance before advocating the death of another Black. Sirius had kindly removed himself from the picture at the Department of Mysteries and he couldn’t afford to have a dark or even neutral relative alive to influence Harry when they found the boy again. Not to mention the way another neutral vote in the Wizengamot could derail his plans. They could prove Draco killed this Lord Black easily enough and then the Black vote would once more be in his hands when Harry assumed the Lordship.

“I assume you’ve made Sealg Fuil before?” Dumbledore asked absently as he popped another lemon drop in his mouth. The potion was vital to calling the Red Hunt. “I’ll need a batch within the next week.”

“It takes five days to brew,” Snape responded with a frown. That was a rather dark potion that had been declared illegal by the Ministry decades ago due to the Blood Magic required to make it function and the Dark rituals that had made it famous.

“Add the ingredients to your usual order and Hogwarts will handle the rush fee,” the Headmaster dismissed idly. “I’ll also need a stabilized Titan’s Draught within the month.”

The draught would simplify the creation of the Potter golem he needed to substitute for the misguided boy. There were several other uses for the potion, but the entire point of having a private Potions Master on call was to take care of the time-consuming steps he didn’t care to do himself. Severus could investigate all he wanted, but the chance of him determining that the Titan’s Draught was intended for the ritual of Prometheus’ Touch was miniscule; Albus himself had only found it in an old journal after several years of searching. He had then proceeded to find and destroy every other copy of the process in order to ensure his exclusive use of the ritual. He’d had plenty of practice over the years and that particular foray hadn’t been difficult at all. Epimetheus’ Blessing had been much harder, for all that it was a ritual that required little preparation in comparison.

Severus nodded with his usual scowl before standing and walking towards the door.

“You’ll be teaching DADA this year,” Dumbledore said calmly as Severus laid a hand on the door handle. “Slughorn agreed to teach Potions.”

Snape’s hand convulsed on the metal, but he blocked Dumbledore from seeing the motion with his body. “I’ll need my private labs for the potion.”

Dumbledore waved his hand negligently. “He’ll be in the old Potion Professor’s quarters. The house elves will be happy to air them out before he arrives in a few weeks.”

Snape nodded and exited the room, lips pressed together in a scowl and robes billowing about his form. Albus had finally taken his obsession with the ‘greater good’ too far for him to stand. The differences between Albus and the Dark Lord were decreasing by the day and Severus was a survivor before anything else; it was time he re-evaluated his position in this war.


	11. Numbers and Symbols

The Weasley family tumbled out of the fireplace at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the twins fugitively dropping a few Crawling Chroniclers and Spider Scouts around the area before darting off to the dining room to plant more spies. They were going to find out what all the recent fuss was about one way or another. The two redheads were pretty sure it was about Harry, but it was hard to know for sure when no one would tell them and Harry hadn’t contacted them as promised.

Molly immediately headed for the kitchen to unpack the snacks she’d made for the Order meeting as Arthur slumped at the table in the dining room. The change over at the Ministry had been crazy enough without searching for Harry; it didn’t help that the new Minister evidently believed Arthur could talk Harry into supporting the Ministry and seemed determined to persuade Arthur into doing so.

Ron slouched in a chair near the fireplace to wait for Hermione to appear. Ginny was at Luna’s while they were holed up in Grimmauld for the Order meeting and it was highly likely they’d be forced to spend the night in the shadowed house. He was not looking forward to it, but his Mum needed to clean something other than the Burrow before she went crazy worrying for Harry.

“Wotcher!” Tonks greeted as she stumbled through the front door and tripped over the umbrella stand as usual. “I think this thing is cursed.”

“Don’t think anyone besides Kreacher would care if you managed to set it on fire,” Ron replied absently as he stood. The green tints in the fire meant Hermione would be coming though from the Leaky Cauldron soon and he needed to finish the password to allow her entrance. The Black Grimm; the phoenix needs not fly –

“ – as long as its soul cries,” the redhead finished when he finally spotted Hermione’s rotating form in the fireplace. It was a pretty stupid password in his opinion.

“Thank you, Ron, I was starting to get –” Hermione said as she moved out of the fireplace before being forced to duck as a flaming object traveled through the space her head has been occupying. She pulled her wand on the person responsible for the projectile only to find a teal-haired Tonks.

“Nice reflexes,” the Auror commented with a smile. Not up to Auror standard, but it wasn’t a bad starting point. Harry had done a good job with his little defense group this past year; she’d have to suggest recruiting a few of the little buggers for the Aurors when they finally graduated.

“Is there a reason you just tried to decapitate me?” Hermione asked as she kept her wand centered on Tonks.

“Yeah, sorry ’bout that,” Tonks added with a shrug. “Got annoyed with the damn umbrella stand.”

“That is no reason to set in on fire and throw it at people,” Hermione sniffed primly as Ron managed to avoid her gaze.

“At least it’s gone now,” the redhead said cheerfully as he grabbed one of Hermione’s bags before groaning at the weight. “What’d you put in this thing? A library?”

“I can cast a featherweight charm on it,” Tonks volunteered with unnatural enthusiasm as she brandished her wand in Ron’s direction.

“I cast one before I left Hogwarts,” Hermione explained as she adjusted her second book bag to avoid aggravating the slash across her torso. “Professor Flitwick advised that I avoid casting more than one for fear of destabilizing the space expansion charms.”

“Have you tried Runes?” the Auror asked as she twirled her wand casually.

“The bags are already littered with them,” Hermione responded as she pointed out a few arrays. “I don’t want to risk damaging the current functions of the bag. Our teachers have yet to cover interdisciplinary reactions and the few books Hogwarts has outside of the restricted section are not very informative on the subject.”

“Experiment,” Moody grunted from a corner, giving his version of a smile when three wands were pointed in his direction before he finished speaking. “Should have noticed when I came in.”

“You’re rather good at being unseen, sir,” Hermione said as she slid her wand back into its wrist sheath. “Experimentation is best left to the experts,” Hermoine glanced to where she could see the twins plotting in the next room, “or those not entirely sane.”

“The only way to have a spell the enemy doesn’t know is to invent it yourself,” Moody lectured, glancing at Tonks to make sure the Auror was paying attention. “If they know it, they can block it, and that makes it useless.”

“It takes time to develop a proper spell,” Tonks returned as she eyed the ex-Auror. “Time I don’t have.”

“Derivations and combinations work just almost as well as new spells,” Moody said as he shifted to face the entrance to the dining room and the hall doorway.

“You said it!” the twins chorused as joined the conversation in the drawing room. 

“Inventing something new – ”  
“ – is pretty difficult.”

“Why do you think it takes so long for a new spell to become public knowledge?” Doge contributed as he followed Mundungus Fletcher through the drawing room and into the dining room to keep an eye on the slippery man. Letting him near the fine china that was House Black’s default serving platters without supervision could only bring trouble.

“I hadn’t really considered it,” Hermione admitted thoughtfully as she eyed the bag Ron held. “This requires research. We’ll be upstairs.”

“You’re leaving already?” Dedalus Diggle asked disappointedly as he held the door to Grimmauld open for Hestia. “But we just arrived!”

“I’m sure they can spare a few minutes,” Hestia told her companion assuredly and earned a beaming smile in return.

“Actually, we can’t,” Hermione responded as she eyed the way Tonks was frowning at the woman. “It was nice to see you again.”

The bushy-haired girl grabbed Ron’s arm and began to drag the redhead in the direction of the stairs. “Have a good meeting.”

“It appears we have some visitors,” Dumbledore said with a twinkling smile as he sailed through the room and into the dining room. Severus and Minerva followed in his wake as the group in the drawing room, including the Ron, Hermione, and the twins, migrated towards into the dining room.

“The birds, you imbeciles,” Snape sneered when no one appeared to understand what the Headmaster meant despite facing the window at which the birds were insistently pecking.

“Now, now, Severus, there’s no need to be rude,” the Headmaster scolded as he settled into his usual seat at the head of the table. 

“They were absorbed in their conversation,” Dumbledore continued, waving away Severus’ scowl as Molly bustled over to open the window.

Two small, fluffy owls darted into the room, one flying directly towards Ron and Hermione and the other towards the twins. 

The first owl was caught for a few seconds in a spell from Molly’s wand that checked the small animals for dangerous objects before being released. The small bird settled on the back of a chair near Hermione and allowed her to remove the black package addressed to her. She reached for the bundle addressed to Ron, but the owl hopped away from her towards the redhead. Ron frowned and removed his own package as Hermione investigated the black protective silk embossed with the House Black coat of arms.

The other owl landed near the twins and held out a leg to the two redheads, who gleefully used their wands to check for pranks before snatching a black bundle of their own. The owl flitted over to Tonks and allowed the metamorphagus to remove her own package after a few judicious spells. 

“Do you think they’re waiting for a reply?” Hestia mused when the owl that had dropped off packages for Ron and Hermione settled on the windowsill instead of leaving.

The small bundle of flying fluff moved from Tonks to Moody and endured a series of invasive spells before the retired Auror used a charm to remove the packaged addressed to him from the owl’s leg.

The owl had two black bundles left when it stopped near Albus, but only allowed the Headmaster to remove one. The small bird fluttered over towards its companion and hovered there for a moment.

“Evidently not,” Tonks said as she watched both owls dart out the still-open window before turning her attention to her own package with a frown. 

“Busy little birds,” Doge commented as he settled into a chair next to Albus.

“They had a bundle addressed to Ginny,” Ron volunteered as he watched Hermione examine the decoratively embossed silk. He’d open his after she did.

While Hermione was occupied examining the black silk, the twins had already removed the silk and opened the letter they found inside.

Molly appropriated the scrap of black fabric and began to discuss embossing charms with Hestia, Hermione carefully listening in the background. The coat of arms had been rather clear, but the motto had been much harder to spot and with a little research she should be able to figure out how to emboss protective runes on her robes. Voldemort had appeared at the Ministry and Susan’s aunt had been attacked this summer; she’d need all the protection she could get.

The twins read their letter twice before looking at each other and displaying maniacal grins. 

“Care to share?” Snape drawled snidely as he sat down at what could be considered the foot of the table. It wasn’t the face the Marauders made when they planned a prank, but the two Weasleys only made that face when they found an ‘entertaining’ idea. Those ideas never turned out well for anyone else.

“Do read it to us, Fred, George,” Molly encouraged as she glared at the Potions Master. Such a vile man.

The twins cleared their throats and read the letter in unison.

“Messrs. Fred and George Weasley, 

“The Ancient and Noble House of Black conveys its gratitude for the purveyance of your products to the aptly-named Ministry Six for the aid they rendered on the night of the previous Lord Black’s death. House Black asks that you solemnly accept these gifts in the spirit in which they are offered and swears that the bands will offer you no harm, only protection against those who seek to do you ill.

“May you prosper as you manage your lives according to the will of the Fates, 

“Kiran Keir Wilhelm, Lord Black.”

“Bands?” Moody questioned with a scowl.

“This Kiran fellow – ”  
“ – sent us –”  
“ – two really shiny – ”  
“ – gold bands – ”  
“ – with strange – ”  
“ – writing on them.”

“See?” the twins said in unison as each held up a gold armband in one hand and somehow managed to make their letter disappear.

“What’d you – ”  
“ – get Ron?” 

“Same type of gold band, a new chess set –” Ron suddenly stopped talking as he stared down at the shrunken gifts accompanying his letter in shock.

“And a Nimbus 2003 with keeper’s gear,” the red-headed teen breathed out reverently as he reached out a finger to touch the miniaturized broom. “A Nimbus 2003!”

“Lucky – ”  
“ – sod!”

“And what does your letter say?” Mrs. Weasley asked with a scolding tone. Her children really needed to get their priorities straight; it wasn’t as if the twins would have any use for brooms since they’d refused to return to Hogwarts.

Ron had to tear his attention away from the broom before he could respond, but a sharp nudge from Hermione had the teen picking up his letter.

“Messr. Ron Weasley,

“The Ancient and Noble House of Black conveys its gratitude for the aid you rendered on the night of the previous Lord Black’s death. House Black asks that you solemnly accept these gifts in the spirit in which they are offered and swears that they will offer you no harm.

“May you prosper as you manage your life according to the will of the Fates, 

“Kiran Keir Wilhelm, Lord Black.”

“Hermione, if you would?” Dumbledore asked with a grandfatherly smile.

“Different greeting, same body of text,” the bushy-haired witch replied absently as she opened the attached packages. “And the complete fifteen volume series of Nite Nife’s Defense Against the Darkness! Oh, and the rather rare series the Runes teacher suggested as advanced supplementary reading for next year. I’m sure they’ll be able to help me on my NEWTs!”

“That’s wonderful dear,” Molly said as she patted Hermoine’s shoulder and wondered why none of her children beside Percy seemed to take their wizarding tests seriously. It made a mother nervous.

“Nymphadora?”

“Don’t call me that!” the metamorphagus hissed at Dumbledore before clearing her throat and reading her letter.

“Auror Tonks,

“The Ancient and Noble House of Black conveys its gratitude for the aid you rendered on the night of the previous Lord Black’s death. House Black asks that you solemnly accept these gifts in the spirit in which they are offered and swears that the chainmail will offer you no harm.

“May you prosper as you manage your life according to the will of the Fates, 

“Kiran Keir Wilhelm, Lord Black.”

“No gold band?” Mrs. Weasley asked carefully.

“No gold band,” Tonks confirmed as she tried on her new chainmail. “Chainmail fits real nice though. Have to remember to send a proper thank you note.”

“You’ll be sending thank you notes as well,” Molly said as she leveled a strict look at her children. “Especially you, Ron. I won’t have our Family as thought of as rude.”

“Moody?”

“Same thing as Tonks: letter, chainmail, no gold band,” the grizened Auror replied as he cast spell after spell at the metal gift.

Severus picked up the gold band Hermione had set aside so she could start reading her new books and had to stop himself from letting the gold band fall to the table when he spotted the Black crest embossed on the metal.

“The bands offer the protection of House Black,” the dour man said with a sneer and dropped Hermoine’s gold band onto her open book. “Useless.”

The teen witch picked up the band and traced the crest of House Black with one finger before going on to examine the various protection runes engraved on the rest of the band. She recognized maybe half of them and some of the arrays were quite simply beyond her current level of comprehension. She could see that they were meant to be beneficial to the wearer and not harmful, but some of the runes looked odd to her eyes, as if something had been tweaked but she didn’t know what.

Dumbledore subtly flipped open his letter and scanned it before tucking it away in his robes. “Quite generous of the boy. Now I believe we have Order business to discuss,” the Headmaster continued as he looked to the children.

“Out you go,” Molly said motherly as she herded her children and Hermione out of the room.

The Weasley twins flicked a glance at each other before protesting in unison. “We’re old enough!”

“Not until you reach your majority,” Molly scolded and pushed Ron out of the room. The twins danced out of their mother’s grip as she grabbed for them, but missed Tonks sneaking up on them so she could use a spell to force the twins out of the room.

“We’re out – ” Fred exclaimed as he held onto the door frame by his fingernails.

“ – of Hogwarts!” George continued as he held onto the other side of the entryway.

“That’s – ”  
“ – good enough!” the twins exclaimed as Tonks cast another spell and they went flying backwards.

“Not yet,” the Auror said with a wink as she shut the door.

The twins pouted at the door for a moment from their positions on the floor but quickly turned, Fred grabbing Hermione’s arm before she ensorcelled herself in the library and George stopping Ron from heading into the kitchen for a snack. “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

“New invention?” Ron asked as he followed the twins up the stairs.

“We have one of those too – ”  
“ – but this is about the letters,” Fred finished as he flattened their letter on the table and both twins rested their wands on the text. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The two redheads grinned as text rearranged itself, new words flowing to life across the parchment.

.~.~.~.

Messr. Mooney and Padfoot’s Cub are Proud to Present an Invitation to Join the Marauders to the Next Generation of Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers. 

Your Pranks are Delightful Pieces of Mischief and You have Our Compliments. An Opportunity Awaits You at Gringotts after August Fifth. Ask for Wilhelm’s Offer. 

May the Marauder Manual Assist You in Your Quest to Aid Future Generations of Pranksters.

Go Forth and Experiment.

PS – Prankster to Prankster, wear the bands.

.~.~.~.

“I didn’t know Sirius had a kid,” Ron commented blankly as he looked at Hermione.

“The last time I looked at the Black Tapestry, he didn’t,” the brunette replied with a frown. “Given the House’s obsession with blood lines – and if their motto is Toujours Pur what is the Weasley Family motto? – I find it hard to believe someone not related to the direct family line could ever become Lord Black.”

“Venari Solus Non,” Ron answered absently as he watched the twins puzzle over the letter.

Hermione took a moment to translate the Latin. “Never Hunt Alone?”

“No Weasley has ever been an only child – ”  
“ – or went to war without the aid of the Family,” the twins added as they carefully re-read the letter for a fourth time.

“Then the Malfoy Family motto?” Hermione asked curiously as she made a mental note to look into the heraldry of the Wizarding World.

“Technically House Malfoy – ”  
“ – like the Blacks are House Black – ”  
“ – but call Malfoy that to his face – ”  
“ – and watch him turn purple – ”  
“ – and go off on a rant – ”  
“ – about his House’s superiority – ”  
“ – because most old pureblood lines – ”  
“ – are simply Families – ”  
“ – as only Houses – ”  
“ – have Wizengamot Seats.”

“The motto?” Hermione prodded. She really needed to understand the politics between all of the Houses and Families before she accidentally stumbled across something dangerous. She’d make notes for Harry because Merlin only knew he needed to know all of this before accepting his place as Lord Potter.

“Sanctimonia Vincet Semper – ”  
“ – Purity Always Conquers.”  
“Which, you know – ”  
“ – really vibes – ”  
“ – with that inbreeding thing – ”  
“ – they’ve got going on.”  
“But never mind that – ”  
“ – you know who – ”  
“ – the Marauders are?” the twins finished in unison.

“Professor Lupin is Mooney,” Hermione responded as she touched her wand to her letter and repeated the twins’ words. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The twins ignored her frown as they crowed about being taught by a Marauder, although Ron pulled his wand out of pocket in response to the expression.

“Harry’s father was Prongs,” Ron added as he repeated Hermione’s actions with his own letter, nodding when the letter stayed the same.

“Then if Padfoot was Sirius Black – ”  
“ – who was Wormtail?”

“A traitor,” Ron growled as he handed his letter and armband to Hermione.

“Peter Pettigrew,” the bushy-haired girl added as she summoned a book from her trunk. “The man who really betrayed the Potters and faked his death to send Sirius to Azkaban.”

“Okay, he’s off – ”  
“ – the Christmas list for sure,” the twins responded as they watched Hermione investigate the runes on the arm bands.

“So yea – ”  
“ – or nay?”

“She’ll be a good couple of hours,” Ron explained when Hermione didn’t answer. “She’s in research mode now and she’s not going to stop until she gets an answer.”

The twins returned to determining how to gain access to the Marauder Manual from the letter because the notebook hadn’t been with the armbands while Ron carefully unshrunk his new broom and began to look it over. 

The redhead barely looked up a few hours later when he heard the Order meeting end and purposely ignored the way the twins ever-so-casually strolled through the dining room into the kitchen. He didn’t want to know what they were up to this time and doubted it would be anything good. His mother received maybe a tenth of his attention and a “thank you” when she ushered the twins back into the upstairs lounge and set a plate of snacks at his elbow; otherwise Ron devoted the majority of his attention to examining his new broom and left a smidgeon to keep track of Hermione’s progress. Trying to figure out what the twins were whispering about in the corner would not be good for his health.

Ron frowned when he no longer heard pages turning and raised his head from his new broom. “Problem?”

“The bands are meant to help,” Hermione admitted carefully. “All of the runes I can identify are intended to protect the bearer from curses and other malicious spells, but the problem is that they’re a rather eclectic mix of Runic languages.”

The brunette ran a finger along a pinwheel-like shape on one of the bands. “This is the Elder Futhark Aegishjalmar, for protection and irresistibility in battle. Vegvisir, the Runic compass to help us find our way. Lásabrjótur, the lockbreaker to free us from our bindings. Hagalaz to remove unwanted influences. Gibo Auja and Fylfot for good luck. Raiðo for threads of fate blessed by the Norns. Gapaldur and Ginfaxi for success and courage in combat. Hraethigaldur and Ottastafur to put fear into the enemy.”

“Sounds – ”  
“ – good to us.”

“And then there’s these.” Hermoine pointed out a few runes interspersed with the rest on the band. “Anglo-Saxon Futhorc. Freyja’s Aett: Ken for inspiration and Wynn for wisdom. The Aett of Heimdall, guardian against trouble: Nyd for defense, Eolh and Sighel for protection. And for Tyr, the King’s Aett: Tir for victory and protection, Doerg for blessed life.”

“Sounds pretty beneficial,” Ron commented as he ran a hand over the faint silvery scars on his arms.

“But the combination of Aett in this manner simply isn’t done! Not by any decent Rune Master at least and much less in combination with Elder Futhark and Ogham! The Runes tend to counteract each other and cause rather explosive effects – ”

“Does it look like they’re going to hurt us?” Ron cut in before the other member of the Golden Trio started a full-blown rant.

“No,” Hermione said slowly. “They don’t look like they’re harmful, but it’s possible that a more dangerous combination could be hidden within the Rune combinations or any of the bindrunes – ”

“Is there a high chance – ”  
“ – they’ll be able – ”  
“ – to cause the wearer harm?”  
“Because if not – ”  
“ – we’ll take the protection – ”  
“ – over a mere possibility.”

“The likelihood is very low,” Hermione admitted with a frown that deepened as she watched the twins immediately slip the bands onto their arms. “Why did you just put on a band that could possibly kill you?”

“The protection of House Black – ”  
“ – is nothing to scoff at, Hermione.”  
“Malfoy wouldn’t dare insult you – ”  
“ – if you wore that armband – ”  
“ – because he’d be going up – ”  
“ – against Lord Black if he did – ”  
“ – and the blond ponce – ”  
“ – isn’t quite that stupid.”

Ron nodded at the logic and grabbed his band from Hermione’s hand to slip it onto his arm. “The new Lord Black can’t be that bad if he and Remus sent the twins a prank book. He didn’t have to send us gifts.”

“I’d prefer to run a few tests on it…”

“Just put it on,” the youngest brother said with a frown. “If you really want someone to run tests on it, then I’m sure the professors’ll oblige you – ”

“But no telling – ”  
“ – if you’ll get it back.”

“Took them a forever to check Harry’s Firebolt in third year.” Ron’s frown deepened. “You’d be better off doing it yourself.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore certainly knows more about runes that I do.” Hermione straightened her pile of books primly. “His research into the uses of dragon blood would have required it.”

The bushy-haired girl picked up the armband again and turned it over in her hands. “Are you sure about this?”

“Moony recommended it!” the twins chorused with unrepentant grins. That was all the proof they needed.

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath before slipping the band onto her bicep. She released her breath when nothing happened.

“Think Ginny got one?” Ron mused idly. “If we got bands for helping Harry at the Department of Mysteries, then Ginny, Neville, and Luna likely got them as well.”

“I’ll send them a letter.” Hermione pulled out her quill and three fresh sheets of parchment. “I’ll need to borrow Pigwidgeon later.”

“Ginny’s spending the night at Luna’s,” Ron added as he finished off the snacks his mother had placed at his elbow earlier.

Hermione sniffed as she sharpened her quill. “It’s only polite to send separate letters.”

The twins traded a look as they fiddled with something on their table.

“Before you do – ”   
“ – you might want – ”  
“ – to take a look – ”  
“ – at what we found.”

Hermione set her writing utensils to the side and walked towards the twins, grabbing Ron’s arm as she passed him so the redhead would follow her. “Your new invention?” the bushy-haired girl asked politely as she pulled up a chair.

“Yes,” the twins chorused as they each tapped a bug sitting on their hands to produce a recording of the Order meeting, complete with sound.

.~.~.~.

“Please focus,” Dumbledore scolded gently as everyone settled into their seats. The twins could be amusing, but they were really too distracting. “Who would like to begin?”

“Igor Karkaroff's body was found in a shack up north,” Moody reported bluntly, “along with some suspicious traces of Dark Magic.” 

“Isn’t all Dark Magic suspicious?” Hestia commented as she crossed her legs. No one who used it could be considered neutral even in the loosest of terms and people could forget about something good coming from it all together.

“The traces imply use of certain rituals,” Moody continued, “rituals outlawed centuries ago by even the most ardent Dark Magic practitioners.”

“What kind of traces?” Dumbledore questioned with a suppressed frown. The man’s death had to be recent and Tom enjoyed killing his failed followers too much to allow others the pleasure, but he always used their deaths to advance his darker magics. If the foolish boy had created yet another horcrux, then his timeline for the war needed to be expanded again, but considering the number of Tom’s horcruxes, there might be additive disruption; he would have to think about this later.

“Dark Magic,” the ex-Auror replied.

“Of course,” Hestia sniffed. “What else?”

“Necromancy,” Moody said with oddly gleeful satisfaction. Wizards who participated in rituals like that weren’t worthy of the name Necromancer despite their twisted attempts, but they made for good prey and better warnings. The stupid ones eventually tried something beyond their ability and got themselves killed one way or another; it was the smarter ones that caused problems. They never went further than the basics of the Forbidden Arts if they didn’t have the Talent or the Gift, but managed perversely innovative combinations of the different Arts that were nothing less than horrifying. 

Hestia stifled a horrified gasp as Molly grabbed her husband’s arm for support and Minerva’s lips tightened in displeasure. Diggle fell off his chair at the news, but Moody’s gaze vacillated between Snape’s odd contemplation and Dumbledore’s barely muffled horror. The two wizards knew something they weren’t planning on sharing with the group and he would bet it was going to cause problems.

Severus was aware that the Dark Lord did more than just dabble in Necromancy and the odds that the Dark Lord hadn’t caused the ritual traces present at Karkaroff's death were so minimal as to be nonexistent. His research into the Dark Mark had shown traces of Necromancy and any Death Eater worth their mark knew their Lord’s delight in torture and death was not simply a personal preference, but a means to an end. Necromancers who were neither Talented nor Gifted needed the death energy produced from torture and death to boost their mediocre efforts and Necromancy was not a Talent the Dark Lord possessed despite his fascination with Death Magic.

Tonks kept a wary eye on Mundungus to make sure the man didn’t make off with anything belonging to the House of Black while everyone was in shock. The Blacks had participated in much worse than Necromancy over the years and had virtually made an art form out of creating spells to imitate the effects of demons, Necromancers, Gifted Blood Magic users, and insane Dark Lords and Ladies.

“Rumor has it that Dementors have been seen across Britain attacking wizards and Muggles alike,” Doge said as he looked at the Ministry employees around the table. Talking about Necromancy in mixed company was rather inappropriate.

“I can confirm that,” Tonks piped up cheerfully. Anything to stop thinking about the sordid history of House Black and the spells she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Oh, and Kingsley told me to tell you that Harry Potter isn’t on the Registry,” Tonks reported brightly, her hair a shimmering waterfall of blue. “He’s no longer a magical citizen of Britain.”

“I’m sure it is just a temporary name change.” Dumbledore soothed as a ball of dread formed in his stomach. Britain favored him, but the other countries tended to resent his power. 

“But temporary name changes don’t appear on the Registry,” Tonks objected with an artfully contrived frown of confusion. “Only death, citizenship, disownment, adoption or a legal name change can affect the Registry.”

“I’m surprised you know that much,” Snape sneered from his chair.

Tonks turned to face him, eyes sharp and cold as Narcissa Malfoy at her haughty best. “My mother was raised in House Black and no child of that House will ever be found lacking in conduct or knowledge of pureblood traditions.” Tonks’ hair lengthened and straightened into a smooth fall of chocolate silk. “Just because I chose not to act as a lady, does not mean I cannot.”

“Your mother is disinherited,” Snape bit out sharply. “As are you.”

“At least they acknowledged me one way or the other.” Tonks gave him a cold smile as her hair lengthened even further and turned an icy blue. “And maybe this new Lord Black will see fit to change that. After all, Toujours Pur doesn’t only refer to blood.”

“See if you can determine what names are new to the Registry,” Albus interrupted, “and if anyone has changed citizenship recently.”

It was a good thing he’d brought his lemon drops with him to the meeting, Dumbledore thought as he popped a candy into his mouth; he was going to need every last one of them if it continued in this vein.

“I’m not allowed to view the Registry yet,” Tonks reminded absently as she admired her hair. She’d never used that particular shade of blue before.

“Then how did Shacklebolt get in?” Snape snapped at the Auror. She was almost as intolerable as her aunt.

“He’s a Senior Auror,” Tonks admitted with a shrug as she dropped her hair. “I’m not.”

“Well, do your best,” Dumbledore encouraged with a grandfatherly smile. “Does anyone else have something to report?”

Albus swept his gaze around the table before nodding. “Then I think it’s time we discuss our search for Harry. Molly, if you would be willing to start?”

“Of course.” Molly smiled at the Headmaster. “No one I talked to saw Harry, but they did see a boy with startling green eyes accompanied by Remus Lupin shopping in the Alley.”

“Same here,” Tonks confirmed as she debated moving the tray of tea cakes closer to her chair.

“Henrietta,” Molly continued, “was happy to tell me she sold a general household cleaning kit in addition to a collection of odd knick-knacks to a polite young man with rather stunning eyes. She was also rather impressed with the embroidered Celtic patterns on the edge of his robe and recognized it as Madam Malkin’s work.

“I stopped by Madam Malkins shortly after and we struck up a conversation about her Celtic embroidery patterns – which really are quite lovely – particularly the one Henrietta had seen on the boy. She commented that the dark blue and black complimented his hair and brought out the color of his eyes, and the extra effort was worth it considering the young man’s purchase. She wouldn’t say any more on the subject, except to confirm that the boy had been accompanied by Remus Lupin.

“Her apprentice, on the other hand, was able to describe the kid that came in with Lupin as a lanky 173 cm male with mesmerizing eyes who had ordered a whole new wardrobe for the two of them,” Molly concluded. All it had taken was a tip or two on the girl’s embroidery charms and the apprentice had been happy to talk to the Weasley matriarch.

“Too tall for Potter,” Moody commented as he cast an unobtrusive spell at the tea in front of him. Could never be too careful.

“I also stopped by the Leaky Cauldron* before I left and Tom hasn’t seen Remus in two or three months,” Molly said with a frown. “He hadn’t seen Harry or this new child either.”

“Then how did they get in the alley?” Hestia asked with her own frown as she refreshed her tea.

“Can answer tha’ one for ya,” Mundungus said as he leaned forward. “They came in usin’ one o’ the Knockturn entrances sumtime in the evenin’ the day ’ogwarts got out. Lupin ’ad a kid followin’ behind ’im, but nobody got a look at the kid. He ’ad a ’is eyes down the ’ole way an’ the light was gettin’ low.”

“The two of them got a room at Hollyhock Fields Inn,” Hestia put in diffidently. “Holly was rather upset when Lupin blocked her from touching the child and then refused to let her lay eyes on the boy!”

“Rather protective of the man,” Arthur commented as he took a drink. “Like a mother griffin and her cubs.”

“A wolf and his cub,” Snape sneered and subtly changed the flavor of his tea. He had never favored the tea the Weasley matriarch insisted on using. Gryffindors had no taste for proper tea.

“He certainly herded the boy upstairs like a wolf according to Holly,” Hestia gossiped as she picked up a delicate tea cake. Molly’s baking was never less than superb for all that she was too poor to have a house elf to help her in the kitchen. “And they left early the next day. Lupin picked up a breakfast-to-go for two.”

“Not much that’s open early in Diagon Alley other than Gringotts,” Tonks observed absently as she poured herself another cup of tea. Wasn’t quite the same as the one they served in Hufflepuff or the office, but close enough it wouldn’t distract her.

“I wouldn’t know.” Hestia looked down her nose at Tonks. “I take care of my business at reasonable hours.”

“Predictability gets you killed,” Moody scolded as his magical eye spun in its socket. Something about this room wasn’t right.

“Well,” Hestia sniffed, “Remus came back late that night and he had a different child with him. They went straight to their rooms and left the next morning, so all Holly could confirm was that the second kid was taller and had dark hair and absolutely stunning eyes.”

“They didn’t bring back any bags?” Minerva questioned with a frown.

“The kid carried a satchel and Remus had new robes that could only be from Madam Malkin’s*,” Hestia reported with pursed lips.

“There was a pretty big purchase over at Tremaine’s Trunks and Frenzy’s Furniture by the same duo,” Tonks added. “An amber-eyed man and a kid with stunning green eyes purchased trunks, furniture, and tents.”

“That would explain the satchel.” Minerva settled back into her chair with a new cup of tea.

Moody finally located several monitoring and recording charms around the room and relaxed. The Weasley twins’ magical signatures virtually saturated the charms and if those two were inventive enough to find a way past the wards Albus always cast before Order meetings, then they deserved to know what the Order discussed. And Potter could use all the help he could get his hands on to deal with Voldemort.

“Where else did they stop?” 

“The Apothecary*,” the metamorphagus responded as she snagged one of the last sweets.

“Did Remus buy Wolfsbane?” Molly asked with a worried frown. The poor man suffered enough without having to worry about becoming a murderous werewolf on the full moon. “Or at least the ingredients for Wolfsbane?”

“I quiver in horror to think of the mess he’d make of the Wolfsbane potion,” Snape said silkily from the foot of the table. “He might just go mad.”

“Remus did quite decent in Potions at school,” Minerva stiffly reminded the Slytherin Head of House.

“He couldn’t make it two years ago,” Severus said flatly, “and I doubt he’s improved since then.”

“He didn’t buy the potion or the ingredients,” Tonks contributed, “but we haven’t heard of any rogue werewolves either and the full moon was at the beginning of the month so there’s certainly been time to report them despite the changing of the guard at the Ministry. It doesn’t help there’s a blue moon at the end of the month.”

“Remus would never leave Harry unprotected on his birthday!” Molly shrieked at the Auror. “Especially not this birthday!”

“He’s due his first Inheritance, isn’t he?” Tonks commented in the tone people used when faced with an inevitable tragedy. “He’ll be sixteen the night after the blue moon.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore deflected, “he was born as the seventh month dies and it’s been sixteen years since his birth, but there’s no reason to suspect he’ll start to receive his Inheritance at such a young age.”

“James, Lily, and Sirius all had a power boost on their sixteenth birthday,” Minerva contradicted with a pensive frown. “I doubt Harry will have anything less.”

“I doubt he’ll have anything at all,” Snape drawled from the foot of the table. “That or the spoiled brat won’t live through it.”

“He doesn’t have wards, does he?” Tonks asked in the sort of tone that begged to be proven wrong. “Please tell me he’ll have wards.”

“Inheritance Chambers aren’t easy to come by,” Moody confirmed.

“And the new kid?” Tonks continued. “This Kiran who claims to be Lord Black and looks like he’s Harry’s age; will Remus be able to raise wards for his Inheritance?”

“What makes you think he’ll get one?” Hestia questioned.

“If he just became Lord Black, there’s no way he won’t,” Tonks said as her hair turned a shimmering grey and fell down her back in luscious curls.

“Well,” Hestia sniffed, “Molly, how is William? You must be so pleased to have him home for the summer.”

“Yes, but he brought his… girlfriend with him,” Molly confided angrily. “Personally, I don’t much like her, the French floozy. She can’t cook, she can’t clean, and she can’t brew.”

“So,” Tonks asked in a clear bid to change the subject before the Weasley matriarch could build a full head of steam, “the Apothecary* sold three complete sets of ingredients to some kid with black hair and the cauldron shop* managed to sell enough equipment to set up a potion-making enterprise.”

“Well, at least the more common potions,” the metamorphagus amended with a shrug at Moody’s suspicious glare.

“I doubt the child is talented enough for that,” Snape sneered.

“It’s the liquids the kid ordered that have me nervous,” Tonks continued blithely. “That many types of blood, venom, saliva, and sap can’t mean anything good.”

“What do you think he’s up to?” Molly asked as she moved towards the kitchen to refill the sweets.

“Seems like he’s just experimenting to me,” Tonks shrugged again as she turned her hair back to her preferred bright pink. “Flourish and Blott’s* said the kid bought enough books to start his own library. Potions, transfiguration, charms, arithmancy, DADA, herbology, and basically the entire rune section.”

“Ambitious,” Dumbledore muttered to himself before speaking louder. “The child didn’t ask for any particular books?”

“Not according to the clerk who was there at the time. Remus and the boy simply went from section to section picking out what they wanted,” Tonks said as she kept her hair bubblegum pink through force of will. No need to tell the Headmaster that the duo had bought several of the larger compendiums.

“Must have his own collection,” Moody grunted. Smart boy, only buying common books; if people didn’t know what had been bought, then they couldn’t defend against it.

“House Black certainly has quite the collection,” Snape sneered. The most vicious pranks came from the mutt and he certainly wasn’t smart enough to create the spells the Marauders had used. He had to have found them somewhere and Hogwarts’ library certainly hadn’t supplied those spells.

“It’s a pity we can’t access the real library here in Grimmauld,” Dumbledore said with a put-upon sigh. The Blacks had collected a variety of books over the years and it was his right as Leader of the Light to examine any tools that might aid them in defeating Voldemort, whether they were books, relics, or rituals. The problem was the wards on the library were tied into the wards on the entire building and breaking them would destroy both Grimmauld and the library. The building wouldn’t be much of a loss, but the library was irreplaceable. Then again, with this new Lord Black fellow dead by Tom’s hand, Harry could be tricked into giving him permission easily enough once he was found and that would solve that problem nicely.

“It’s a private library for a reason,” Tonks said sharply as she glared at the Headmaster. “Those books belong to House Black.”

“I’m sure Harry will let us look for whatever we need,” Dumbledore dismissed magnanimously.

“He’s not dead yet,” Tonks muttered with a frown. Her letter to the new Lord Black was going to be monstrous.

“Malfoy’s brat could inherit,” Moody added, playing devil’s advocate with relish. The blond brat getting his hands on the Black Lordship could cause them no end of trouble and Dumbledore wasn’t even considering the possibility.

“The incredible bouncing ferret,” Tonks giggled under her breath as her hair went super-short and Malfoy blonde before Moody’s look of admonishment made her straighten and return her hair to its usual bright pink.

“The clerk from Wrigley’s Writing is pretty sure the kid said something about homework from a school called Cuh-vair-er-ill and stocked up on enough parchment and ink to write his own book and annotate it,” Tonks reported with a wry grin. Her Lord Black certainly seemed to be well-prepared.

“I’m quite sure there is no school named Cuhvairerill in the world,” Dumbledore said firmly. “The clerk must have misheard the name.”

“Better hope this kid isn’t going to K’ver,” Moody gave a rough laugh. “He gets out of there alive and there’s no way Voldemort’s taking him down without an army.”

“He has an army,” Hestia replied tartly. “They’re called the Death Eaters.”

“They’re not an army,” the ex-Auror contradicted, “they’re a bunch of zealots.”

“Which is worse in the long run,” Tonks said with her own frown. It was possible to disband an army, but zealots never really gave up. Bellatrix was a prime example of that.

“Because you have to kill them to get rid of them,” Minerva added with a tight frown. She would go to war for her beliefs, but indiscriminate killing had never been a characteristic of Clan McGonagall. Then again, neither was Albus’ odd belief in second, third, and even fourth chances. A wizard declared their loyalty once, maybe twice if they were lucky to encounter the mercy of enemies whose philosophy matched their own; people who changed their loyalty with the tide were not to be trusted.

“Now, now, violence is not the answer,” Dumbledore interjected with a grandfatherly smile. His Order really was too willing to be violent at the least provocation.

“Why an army?” Diggle asked Moody curiously as he bounced in his seat.

“Because there are only four things that can kill a K’ver graduate: an army, an assassin, another K’ver graduate, or their own experiments.”

“Their own experiments?” Dedalus asked with another bounce.

“They’re not infallible, just damn powerful,” the ex-Auror growled out. He shouldn’t have to explain this.

“So why doesn’t everyone go there?” Hestia asked as she poured a new cup of tea.

“Because three-quarters of the kids that go in don’t ever come out,” Moody replied as he settled back into his chair. The Order really was too insular if they didn’t know about K’ver and the graduation rate for the school.

“No doubt Black’s spawn will be one of them,” Snape muttered vindictively from his end of the table.

“They kill their own students?” Molly asked, reaching for Arthur’s hand in horror.

“No, the other students take care of that for them,” Tonks replied blandly. Considering the spats people got into at Hogwarts while she was there, if her fellow students’d had higher power levels or more offensive spells in addition to an environment where magic wasn’t prohibited and the teachers didn’t care, well, half of her year would have been dead as well. Add in experimentation on the part of students and there went another quarter of the class; even Hogwarts had a history of student deaths due to experimentation when they’d taught riskier subjects before Dumbledore became Headmaster.

“Survival of the fittest!” the ex-Auror barked on the heels of Tonks’ words.

“How horrible,” Hestia breathed out, eyes wide. She had gone to Hogwarts just like everyone else and it had served her quite well, thank you. “Why would people even think about going there?”

“They teach Necromancy,” Moody deadpanned as his magic eye rolled around the room observing everyone’s reaction to the word. Almost as bad as Voldemort’s name.

“Then they’re all Dark,” Molly said decisively as she gripped Arthur’s hand.

“Some of the best Potion Masters the world has to offer come from K’ver,” Snape drawled. 

“And the potions they invent?” the red-headed mother of seven prodded.

“Are not to be attempted by amateurs,” Snape sneered as he looked down his nose at Molly. “The ingredients are volatile even before they’re added to the potion.”

“Like thestral breath?”

“Try Pomegranate Infusco and the scales of a Russian Blue,” Snape derided.

“So they use rare ingredients like they grow on trees?”

“How’d they get ’em?” Mundungus prodded. Those items sold for a pretty penny.

“They teach the Lost Arts,” Snape replied in the tone he reserved for talking to the most dunderheaded students in his Potions class.

The majority of the Order looked at him in confusion from their seats.

“They teach Summoning and Necromancy,” Severus explained slowly before pinching the bridge of his nose to help mitigate the headache caused by dealing with uninformed idiots. “I highly doubt someone couldn’t be convinced to travel to Hades’ Realm and get a few fruit or summon a Russian Blue from the reserves.”

“Wish we could do that,” Tonks muttered to herself. Would make life a hell of a lot easier.

“Did you have something to add, Nymphadora?” Dumbledore asked with smile that came across as patronizing. The girl wasn’t following his lead as she should and it was time for her to behave properly.

“Don’t call me that! And the Corps like dragonhide,” Tonks said in a louder tone, coupling her reply with a casual shrug. “Moreover, Shoemaucer reported a sale of battle boots last month to non-Aurors,” the metamorphagus added as she eyed Mundungus. Better not tell the whole truth.

“Why would he do that?” Hestia questioned from across the table.

“The Minister’s new retroactive decree.” Tonks shrugged and reached for another sweet. He’d reported it last month, before Rufus became Minister, but there was no need to disclose Auror informants. Shoemaucer’s granddaughter was in the force, so he warned them about large sales. In return the entire Auror department bought their boots from the man and everyone was pleased with the arrangement.

“Duke also reported someone,” Tonks continued, “that just so happens to look like the kid, was gearing for war last month. Flexible light armor, battle armor, and under armor made from the best materials Duking and Dueling Armor has to offer. It’s what gave Madam Bones the idea to get her niece a good set of under armor and a few pieces of proper battle armor.”

“I’m just grateful they were out of the house when You-Know-Who attacked,” Molly reached for her tea to take a calming sip. “We’re thinking of upgrading our wards.”

“I would suggest contacting the Wilhelm boy,” Snape’s oily voice broke in, “but I doubt he’ll be around long enough to honor any commitments.”

“Know something special, Snape?” Tonks prodded as she eyed the Potions Master. They might need to find a way to hide the kid if he was on Voldemort’s kill list as anything more than Lord Black.

“The first thing the Dark Lord did when he left Hogwarts was post a bounty for the head of every member of the Wilhelm line.” Snape pursed his lips. “The last one was claimed earlier this year.”

“That seems a little harsh. Did they offend him so horribly?” Hestia asked as she considered taking another tea cake.

“Wilhelms are good with wards,” Moody contributed with a strange, gleeful smile. “Learned some of my best tricks from that bunch.”

“The Wilhelm line has been designing wards for over 500 years and their ancestors have tinkered with wards since before the turn of the century,” the Headmaster added with a solemn smile.

“Do you think they contributed to Hogwarts?” Diggle piped in from beside Hestia, his purple top hat slipping to the side in his excitement.

“Rowena Ravenclaw designed Hogwarts’ wards with little outside aid,” Albus’ eyes twinkled as he smiled, “but Marriella Wilhelm was in Slytherin despite her obsession with Runes.”

“So she and Sirius had a thing?” Tonks asked curiously. Sirius pretty much hated all Slytherins with or without reason, but despite his reputation as a rake and a prankster there had been no rumors of illegitimate heirs before this Kiran Wilhelm claimed to be Lord Black. She was rather thankful the Malfoy spawn hadn’t gotten the title; Merlin only knew what the spoiled brat would have done with it.

Snape sneered at the Auror in response and Tonks took that as a yes.

“Regulus died in 1979,” Tonks mused aloud. “Walburga would have pressured Sirius for a proper heir despite blasting him from the family tapestry.”

“The mutt was disowned.”

“Sirius was never removed from the line of succession,” the Auror smirked. “He inherited Number 12 Grimmauld, didn’t he?”

“William is spending the summer at the Borrow this year,” Molly interjected before Snape could verbalize what promised to be a scathing retort from the sneer on his face, “and plans to upgrade the wards as soon as possible.”

“What are you going to use for anchors?”

“Dobby, the poor dear, found the location of our old wardstones earlier this summer,” Molly replied as she poured herself a new cup of tea. “Of course that was before the depression took hold.”

“He had a connection to Harry?” Minerva pursed her lips in order to disguise her amusement at the idea. James and Sirius had tried to smuggle a personal house elf into Hogwarts every week like it was part of some demented Marauder to-do list – prank Snape, smuggle in personal elf, prank Slytherins, get Lily to date James, prank Snape, work on personal project, repeat – and Harry had managed to have a personal elf at Hogwarts completely by accident.

Dumbledore hid his own frown. House elves didn’t get depressed unless they were unbonded and Dobby was supposed to work for Hogwarts. He’d bind the elf and then send him after this Kiran fellow; convincing the elf to hinder the new Lord Black shouldn’t be hard at all once he was bound to Hogwarts.

“Evidently,” the Weasley matriarch responded. “The poor little dear has taken to filching butterbeer and getting soused as often as possible. Not to mention, no one’s seen Hedwig in days and the lovely owl usually spends several days at the Borrow to avoid Harry’s relatives.”

“He gets tired of dealing with her, so he sends her away?” Snape snorted. “How like Potter.”

Molly pursed her lips and looked down the table at the professor. “Harry’s not like that at all. Hedwig simply has trouble finding food in that horridly stifling neighborhood and refuses to leave Harry alone for the time it would take to go hunting properly.”

“You haven’t seen her at all?” 

“Not even a feather,” the redhead confirmed. “And we’ve been combing the property for weeks to prep for the new wards.”

“Do you plan to add any additional wardstones?”

Molly pursed her lips again. “Maybe.”

“Well, it turns out Jameson’s Jewels finally sold that cracked, fist-sized white diamond and the three flawed black diamonds,” Doge announced. “What the buyer will use ‘em for is anyone’s idea. White diamonds only work as the center for larger or mutli-layered links wards and broken diamonds won’t do anyone any good.”

“Can’t someone fix it?”

“Only if they’re the one who’s going to be using it and they’ve got the patience to spend weeks slowly transfiguring it back to normal. Considering some kid with green eyes bought the entire group in addition to all the stones for a rune carver’s kit and some nice gems, he might actually have the patience for it. No one has any idea what the kid is going to do with that peridot, though,” Doge finished with a confused shake of his head. Peridots weren’t that common to begin with and barely anyone used the stones.

“Maybe he was born in August?” Hestia suggested cautiously.

“What, he’s going to stick it on his mantel and use it as a conversation starter?” Tonks replied with a snort of disbelief as her hair flashed peridot for a moment before returning to her usual pink.

“Pretty sure Mercer’s Materials had the same kid buy a little piece of everything in the store,” Doge continued, blatantly ignoring the scornful looks Tonks and Hestia sent each other. Men did not involve themselves in ladies’ disputes. “Nobody could confirm it, but the restock order was rather large the day after.”

“Where’s the kid getting the money for this?” Moody frowned.

“Rumor ’as it the kid’s got a Gringotts Card,” Mundungus said as he tried to avoid the suspicious glare Tonks sent his way. He hadn’t even taken anything yet!

“The Black Vault,” Tonks suggested with a raised eyebrow and one-shouldered shrug. “If he’s Lord Black, there’s no way he doesn’t have access.”

“But exactly how much money is the kid spending?” Molly asked worriedly. “A budget is an important part of shopping.”

“It’s not like the Black Vault has a limit,” Tonks said frankly. “I’d bet he barely put in dent in his bank statement despite the rampant spending.”

“More importantly, did they spend time in Knockturn Alley?” Dumbledore asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation. The boy’s intentions could not be deduced from his actions so far, although he seemed to lean more towards their goals than Voldemort’s at the moment.

“I can’t believe Remus would take a child into Knockturn,” Molly supported staunchly.

“There’s no hint that they even approached Knockturn Alley,” Tonks said flatly, “but Lenel admitted to having seen the boy and claimed he’d make a ‘right proper little lord in a few years, picking out what he did,’ and then refused to say any more on the subject.”

“Ollivander never should have let his boy marry a Lovegood,” Doge complained.

“The boy was about to die and everyone knows she promised to bear Ollivander a male heir for his line,” Hestia dismissed as she picked up a scone. “Pity the mother died and it took the girl such a long time to start. It’s been fifty years since her father died and she’s just now getting around to producing the male heir her mother promised Ollivander.”

“Everyone has the right to continue their line,” Dumbledore stated firmly. It was a pity he could no longer have a blood heir, but he had enough time left to find a properly moldable child and adopt them into his Family. Potter’s child would have the power, but would be unlikely to obey unless he reproduced with a properly compliant witch. Albus pushed the thought away firmly; he had more important things to think about at the moment.

“Rumor in the alleys has it tha‘ the boy’s to be ’prenticed to the old man,” Mundungus put in as he eyed the fine bone china Molly had borrowed from the Grimmauld cabinet for her sweets. He knew just the person who would be interested in buying it.

“Wonder how that’ll go,” Tonks said as she turned her hair the color of sunset flames and absently began to braid it. “Lovegoods are good people, but that crazy quirk means they’ve never been steady people. Aurors still have horror stories about Lovegood-Verdot and the messes he got into.”

Molly immediately stood up and left the table in search of firewhiskey. She’d seen some earlier in one of the kitchen cabinets and now all she had to do was find it again.

“I went to school with the boy,” Minerva confessed as she filled the bottom of her cup with tea. She filled the remaining three-quarters with liquid from a small metal flask she fished from her robes and took a bracing sip before continuing. “He was worse than Harry when it came to bad luck. Every week he’d stumble across something so stupidly crazy that everyone was sure he’d end up dead. Our entire graduating class decided Hogwarts itself was the only reason that boy graduated alive and relatively in one piece.”

“Thank Merlin that one died without reproducing,” Hestia shivered as she eyed her tea and wished for alcohol. “He courted Walburga Black.”

“Lovegood blood could have only improved the mutt,” Snape sneered from his chair, but the majority of the table ignored him. Lovegood-Verdot was the center of so many crazy stories that it was impossible for people to ignore the exploits of the poor boy.

“Sirius with any of the Talents or Gifts bestowed by the Lovegood Family Magics would have been a disaster,” Minerva agreed as she offered Hestia the flask. “Anyone with a combination of the Gifts of House Black and the Gifts of the Lovegood Family would have created a disaster large enough to flatten Hogwarts in their first year.”

“First month,” Tonks challenged as she leaned across the table and grabbed the flask from Hestia before the witch was finished pouring the liquor into her tea. She was not talking about the Gifts or Talents bestowed by the Magics of House of Black or Lovegood-Verdot’s stupidity in courting a daughter of the House of Black sober. Being a metamorphagus or an animagus was a Talent; true shape-shifting was a Gift.

“First week,” Moody said as he took the flask from Tonks and poured it into an empty teacup. The retired Auror added his own choice of liquor from a silver flask before tossing the mixture back.

“Hard to believe a young man could destroy Hogwarts and all of its history,” Dedalus Diggle ventured, always willing to believe the best of people until proven otherwise.

“You never met the boy,” Doge said as he took out his own flask. Once was all it took to convince you Lovegood-Verdot had problems.

“’e visited Knockturn jus‘ the once and they still ’aven’t rebuil’ the bloody store,” Mundungus commiserated. He hadn’t been alive at the time, but every resident of Knockturn knew why Flannery’s Fricassee had burned to the ground after Lovegood-Verdot visited. 

The idiot had tripped over a tile, tried to catch his balance on the door to the kitchen and fell into the kitchen where he saw the cook carving meat from the still-bleeding thigh of a vampire. Lovegood-Verdot had then managed to cast a curse on the area instead of the stunner he intended to use and when the cook threw his knife at the Auror, it knocked a pot off the stove and the stupid boy somehow managed to create a fiendfyre that gorged itself on the mess before burning the two-story building to the ground. 

Molly slammed a full bottle of Ogden’s Finest Firewhiskey in front of Alastor before setting a second between Hestia and Minerva and keeping the third for her and Arthur to share.

Mundungus Fletcher eyed the firewhiskey before silently cursing the fact Molly had placed the bottles too far away for him to reach. Lovegood-Verdot had barely escaped with his life and the Alleys had been absurdly lucky Dumbledore was passing through Diagon Alley on his way to Gringotts. The Transfiguration professor had managed to contain the fire before it spread to the neighboring shops, but the cursed flame had burned the very air itself after burning the damp soil down to the bedrock. Nothing had been built on the lot since.

“Still, he was just a child,” Diggle tried as he eyed the liquor liberally being added to tea around the table.

“The Forbidden Forest 80 years ago,” Moody returned as he took a swig from his flask, a quick swish of his wand dissipating the build of flames in his throat before they appeared. Mixing firewhiskey and distilled firewine always produced that effect.

“First week,” Minerva, Doge, and Tonks agreed with a shiver.

“I never did figure out why he had such bad luck,” Minerva confessed as she poured more firewhiskey into her tea. She preferred Scotch, but firewhiskey could be transfigured easily enough into her poison of choice.

“It’s all in the breeding,” Tonks stated as she tossed back what looked to be a teacup full of pure firewhiskey and turned as red as her hair. “His father fell in love with and married a French girl – ” 

“No good, French floozies,” Molly muttered into her teacup with a fiery hiccup.

“ – with the wrong type of Family Magics,” Tonks continued. “The Black Magics would have reduced the effect of the Lovegood Family Magics on his kid.

“If he lived that long,” the metamorphagus muttered to herself before taking another teacup-sized shot. Walburga would have killed him on their first chaperoned date and gotten away with it.

“The Ollivander Family Magics have never failed to pass their Gifts to each successive generation and the Lovegood Family Magics should make gathering wand components infinitely simpler for the young man,” Dumbledore interrupted with a subtle frown. At least Harry stumbled upon trouble most of the time rather than creating it. “Now, did he visit any other shops in Diagon Alley?”

“The Magical Menagerie* had a large ruckus when the kid walked in,” Tonks reported. “All the snakes began to hiss and a couple of the rarer pets in the back were out of sorts for days afterwards; the store had to close for three days. The owner was quite upset and considered placing a restraining order against the kid.”

“The man should be thankful it wasn’t Lovegood-Verdot,” Minerva said with another sip of her drink. The boy had gotten kicked out of Care of Magical Creatures more times than she could count for what could only be pure stupidity and that was in spite of the Lovegood Family Magics.

“The owner’s family has had a ‘do not enter order’ against the Lovegoods for the past century at minimum,” Tonks reported. “In addition to any known Beast Speakers.”

“That include Potter?” Snape asked snidely from the end of the table.

“Not until he causes a ruckus,” the auror responded with a saccharine smile.

“Special treatment for the pampered little prince,” the Potions Master sneered. “Why am I not surprised.”

“All Beast Speakers are required to schedule an appointment if they require something from the shop,” Tonks volunteered as she poured more firewhiskey into her cup and stared at it in contemplation. 

“And how would you know that?” Hestia asked archly from over her teacup.

“Pareseltongue is one of the rarer Talents known to appear in the House of Black,” Tonks admitted with a tight smile as she tossed back another shot of firewhiskey and used her wand to vanish the heat accumulating in her cheeks. It conflicted with her hair. “Anyone in the right circles knows that.”

“What, Death Eater circles?” Hestia responded with an innocent blink of her eyes.

“Pureblood circles,” the metamorphagus sneered. Everyone knew Walburga once hoped for a daughter or granddaughter with the Talent. Merlin only knows if she intended to offer the girl as a consort to Voldemort or not. “Love isn’t the only reason people marry, even if it is the only one that should count.”

“You’d know,” Hestia said snidely, “considering your mother was disowned for falling in love and eloping with a muggleborn.”

Tonk’s hair and eyes went a cold, hard black. “Take that back.”

.~.~.~.

“The rest is a mish-mash of drunken ramblings and straight-up accusations,” Fred said with a strained smile as the twins shut down the visual playback before Hestia could respond. 

“They stopped making sense less than five minutes in,” George added with a grin of his own as he turned off the audio recording. It had some good blackmail material, but nothing that would really interest Hermione or Ron. And Tonks got pretty vicious seven minutes in; it certainly made it clear she’d been raised House Black even if her mother had been blasted off the family tapestry.

“I’m sure Harry’s fine,” Hermione said in a carefully modulated voice as she reached into her bag to pull out the DA parchment, “and I can prove it.”

The bushy-haired girl smoothed the parchment on the table only to freeze when she spotted the dark black of Harry’s name. “His name shouldn’t be that dark.”

Ron pulled the parchment over to rest in front of him and frowned. “It wasn’t that dark when he first signed.”

Hermione pulled the parchment towards her and cast a spell on it. “Everything’s as it should be.” She looked up to see the twins exchanging glances. “Explain. Now.”

George and Fred traded frowns.

“There are very – ”  
“ – few reasons why – ”  
“ – a name would turn – ”  
“ – black like that.”

Hermione set her chin. “Marietta’s name didn’t change when she reported the DA.”

“You studied how to link – ”  
“ – detection charms, jinxes, – ”  
“ – and secrecy spells – ”  
“ – to make that, right?”

Hermione nodded and the twins continued. 

“Those charms rely – ”  
“ – on a person’s magical aura – ”  
“ – or a component of their aura – ”  
“ – like the Dark Mark – ”  
“ – to identify a person.”  
“It’s how owls deliver mail – ”

Hermione gave a little sigh of satisfaction as a question she had been wondering about since she was first introduced to the Wizarding world was finally answered. The owls probably navigated using the Earth’s magnetic fields like most birds and used people’s magical auras as homing beacons in order to ensure the mail was delivered to the appropriate person no matter where that person was in the world.

“ – and how the Map operates.”  
“Extensive wards – ”  
“ – or a significant change – ”  
“ – to your magical aura – ”  
“ – can void the majority of – ”  
“ – detection charms, jinxes, – ”  
“ – and even secrecy spells.”

Hermione nodded in response; the theory was sound, but it made her a little nervous for Harry since it was the change to his name that had started the conversation. 

“So can death,” Fred said frankly.

Both Ron and Hermione froze at those words, the redhead letting out a strangled groan as he leaned back in his chair.

“If Harry’s – ”  
“ – not Harry anymore – ”  
“ – according to your secrecy spell – ”  
“ – then he might have pulled – ”  
“ – the best prank of all – ”  
“ – and become someone else.”  
“Highly doubt he’s dead – ”  
“ – especially when the masked idiots – ”  
“ – haven’t dumped his – ”  
“ – body in a public place.”

“It’d be quite the move,” Ron muttered absently from his shocked stupor.

“Who knew Ronniekins was so good at politics?” the twins cooed at their younger brother before continuing in a more serious vein.

“And when we tried – ”  
“ – to add Harry’s arm – ”  
“ – to the Prewett Clock a – ”  
“ – few days ago – ”  
“ – you know – ”  
“ – when we let one of the experiments – ”  
“ – lose in the living room – ”  
“ – it wouldn’t take.”

“You let that thing lose?! Do you know how much trouble it caused?!” Ron exploded in anger before the twin’s last sentence sunk in and the redhead went deathly still. “What do you mean it didn’t take?”

“Mum prepped the hand at Christmas – ”  
“ – and when she came home – ”  
“ – worried about Harry – ”  
“ – we decided – ”  
“ – to put it on the clock – ”  
“ – so she’d relax.”

The twins paused for a moment with unhappy frowns before speaking in unison. “It vibrated between ‘traveling’ and ‘lost’ before going black and falling off.”

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked shakily as Ron froze in horror.

“The clock hands turn black and fall off when someone dies,” Fred explained as George moved to deal with Ron. “It’s how Mum knew her brothers were dead during the war before Moody told Dumbledore. All the hands were on ‘mortal peril’ during the war, but Gideon and Fabian’s silver went dark and fell off the clock when they died fighting five Death Eaters. Dolohov went to Azkaban for it.”

“What does that mean for Harry?!” Hermione repeated as she pushed herself out of her chair and slammed her hands down on the table.

The twins looked at each other and grimaced. “Harry Potter no longer exists.”


	12. Power & Beauty, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter the Order of the Phoenix had a rather riotous meeting. This chapter, Kiran wakes up and gets involved in werewolf politics.  
> Also, no beta for the chapter.

“Trys’n?” Kiran slurred as he tried to sit up, eyes blearily looking for the injured werewolf. No one else was going to die for him if he could do anything about it.

Betony hovered near Kiran’s bedside for a moment before taking a deep breath and forcefully calming herself. “Trystan’s fine, Kiran. Please lay back down.” The werewolf raised her voice. “Killian, please go get Syanth and Remus.”

Kiran relaxed at the announcement and raised a hand to rub at his eyes. This place was certainly different from Hogwarts’ infirmary. The teen squinted at the blurry explosion of color at the foot of his bed before deciding they were flowers when his eyes came back into focus. There was a large bouquet of white and purple flowers on the right and a smaller group of purple and yellow flowers on the left.

“What’s with the flowers?” Kiran croaked as Betony turned to get him a cup of water.

“They were a gift,” the werewolf deflected as she poured him a glass. “Please lean back.”

Kiran relaxed against his pillows, absently raising a hand to pet the owl that was persistently preening his hair. Hedwig insisted on neatening his hair at the oddest times. 

Kiran started to shift into an easier position for drinking, but paused when he heard a sharp clicking noise above his head. Hedwig could get crabby when she wasn’t allowed to preen and he wasn’t feeling up to dealing with her antics at the moment. 

A particularly sharp tug on his hair made the teen frown and look up, only to freeze in place. That wasn’t Hedwig.

“Why is there a strange owl on my bed?” Kiran asked cautiously as he started to inch away from the bird, only to have the owl clack its beak and sidle along the headboard to follow him.

Kiran refocused on the owl at the sound of a low purr and watched as the owl’s crest fluffed up and the bird extended its neck towards him. The teen gave a sad little smile as the bird echoed behavior he had only seen from Hedwig. He missed his owl, but sometimes it seemed as if the entire Wizarding World knew her on sight. Absently he reached out to the owl and froze when it nibbled his fingers in greeting. 

Okay, somehow, someway, Hedwig had thinned down, changed her markings, and simultaneously managed to find him, because there was no way that some random owl had miraculously managed to find him and imitate the behavior of his first friend so perfectly.

He really couldn’t say he was that surprised, because Hedwig had always found him before, no matter where he was, but he had no idea how she had done so. If his old holly wand didn’t work for him anymore, how in the world had she found him?

Kiran absently accepted the cup of water from Betony and began to drink it as he took a closer look at Hedwig’s new appearance. The silvery-grey eyes were slightly alarming, even if the distinctive light grey barring on her longer wings somehow seemed to suit her. Merlin, it was good to see his owl again. He’d really missed her.

Come to think of it, with Hedwig back he had no need for the two owls he’d bought in Diagon Alley. Maybe Remus could keep them? He’d ask later, Kiran decided with a firm nod before falling back against his pillows with a frown. 

He didn’t quite understand why he was so tired; healing Trystan couldn’t have taken more energy than fending off all those dementors in third year and he’d had no problem with that.

“So someone sent me get well flowers? Very fancy get well flowers?” Kiran asked as he eyed the flowers again. He’d figure out the problem with his magic later with Remus.

“Ah, no,” the werewolf prevaricated. “Not really.”

“Why else would I get flowers?”

“Japanese Nobles and European Purebloods tend to send messages through flowers,” Betony hedged carefully.

“What do those say then?”

The werewolf reached out and ran a finger down the vase holding the purple and white flowers. “Purple verbena for regret and sympathy, purple hyacinth for sorrow, purple scabious for mourning, milkweed for hope in misery, magical snowdrops for consolation, maiden’s hair for discretion, and camellia for gratitude. 

“The general message seems to be ‘As your friend, I mourn with you, but ask your discretion,’ with the assumption that forgiveness is assured.”

Kiran frowned and motioned to the other group of flowers.

“Columbines, Carolina syringa, yellow carnations, and pasque flowers,” Betony murmured softly before frowning and refusing to look Kiran in the eye. “It claims you have no standing.”

“No standing with regard to what?”

“The bouquet doesn’t say,” Betony replied softly, “but they both came from a Lady Malfoy according to the cards.”

Kiran frowned in return before considering Betony carefully. “You know a lot of that flower language?”

“Yes,” the long-haired healer responded modestly as she ran a hand down the length of her hair. “I like plants.”

“Would you mind helping me design a bouquet in return?”

“Of course not.” Betony gave a gentle smile. “What would you like to say?”

“Just three things,” Kiran’s fist clenched on the covers. “I will never submit. This is war. And my revenge is justified.”

“Striped carnations and snapdragons for refusal,” Betony responded thoughtfully as she ticked off a finger with every flower name. “Licorice and milfoil for war, amaryllis for pride, redbeckia for justice, trefoil for revenge.” 

The werewolf paused for a moment and then nodded. “White chrysanthemums, standing cypress, and gladiolas to round out the bouquet and enforce the meaning.”

Kiran gave the girl a sheepish smile. “Could you write that down for me? No way I’ll remember it when I get around to buying them.”

Betony smiled back and went to grab a piece of paper as Syanth bustled into the tent.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Kiran, but I don’t have a lot of time.” The werewolf pressed a hand to Kiran’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Syanth nodded. “Good. Are you dizzy? Do you have a headache? Does anything else ache? I see Betony got you a class of water; are you still thirsty? Do you need something to eat? Are you too warm? Too cold?”

Kiran shook his head in response to each question and Syanth smiled.

“That’s good. Do you remember what happened?” the healer asked cautiously.

“The boars killed Nolan and gored Trystan; I managed to help him and then I fainted.” Kiran reached up and scratched Hedwig on the head again.

Syanth eyed the teen. “Do you know how you managed to heal Trystan?”

“I used a spell,” Kiran replied slowly. Betony should have been able to tell Syanth that much.

Syanth pursed her lips in thought. “And how does your magic feel?”

“Tired.” Kiran yawned and shifted to a more comfortable position. His eyes felt heavy.

“Have you ever felt anything similar?”

Kiran yawned again and rested his head on the pillows. “Once, ’couple of years ago.”

“Better or worse than this?”

“Better.” The teen closed his eyes and promised himself it would just be for a few seconds. He still had to see Remus. 

“What spell did you use?” he heard Syanth ask as he settled into his pillow.

Kiran turned his head and yawned into his pillow. “Some spell from a book I read.”

“What was the name of the spell?” the healer asked again.

Kiran slipped into the welcoming arms of Morpheus before he could answer.

.~.~.~.

Kiran felt unusually aware as he pushed himself into a sitting position and blinked at Remus as the werewolf tucked his wand back into his arm holster.

“Sorry for the abrupt wake-up call, cub, but I needed to hear how you’re doing from you before I head back to Pack negotiations.

Kiran smiled at his guardian. “I’m fine.”

“You sure you’re doing okay? Not too tired?”

Kiran raised a hand to cover his yawn. “Probably more tired than I should be, but it’s not too bad. I’m doing okay.”

“Syanth tells me you used a single spell to heal Trystan?” Remus prodded as the healer slipped into the tent and hovered at her Alpha’s shoulder.

Kiran nodded and shifted into a more comfortable position.

“Kiran, where exactly did you find that spell?” Remus asked his cub cautiously. The ability to heal the way the younglings had described wasn’t normal under any circumstance. 

“One of the books from the Parsifal Vault,” Kiran admitted with a shrug. Wasn’t like he had anything to hide.

“Do you remember the book?”

The teen shook his head. “Not really, but I can find it easily enough. All the healing books are in one area and that one’s a real deep green.”

Remus relaxed into his chair. “Good. Now promise me you won’t use that spell again until you can control it.”

Kiran nodded. “I promise. I only used it on Trystan because it’s the only Healing spell – well, besides Episky – that I could remember.”

“What you did with Trystan…” Syanth interjected and then trailed off to flick a glance at her Alpha. “That’s not something people can just learn; either you have the ability or you don’t and there are very few people in the world with an ability equal to yours.

“But I got the spell from a book,” Kiran protested.

“If I used that spell it would have done absolutely nothing,” Remus added.

“Kiran, your talent at Healing is beyond most people’s wildest dreams,” Syanth entreated. “Even if you aren’t actually interested in the subject, please, for the sake of the Pack, learn a few of the spells to make sure something like this never happens again.”

“I’ve never really been interested in Healing – I like Defense a lot better,” Kiran protested as he plucked at the blanket covering his lap.

“At least take a look at the Healing books you found in the vaults, okay?” Syanth patted his covered knee. “You could help a lot of people with you Gift.”

“I’ll take a look at the book later,” Kiran promised.

“I’ll entertain our guests, Alpha.” Syanth offered an odd, tilted nod to Remus and left the tent. 

Remus put up a privacy ward once the other werewolf was gone and looked at Kiran. “If Madam Pomfrey had used that spell it would have done nothing; she doesn’t have the Gift. That’s a powerful tool in your arsenal and one most healers would give their left arm for.”

“I think the book was Gifted Healing or Healing for the Gifted; something to do with the words ‘gift’ and ‘healing’ anyway,” Kiran speculated, “but I still don’t understand why this is such a big deal to everyone. Madam Pomfrey could have healed Trystan much easier.”

“Madam Pomfrey has had several years of training and over two decades of practice.” Remus held up a hand and then moved to rub his temples. “Okay, let’s try this: not everyone can become an animagus like James and Sirius. Being an animagus is a Talent – a skill that runs in family lines. The Potters are good at Transfiguration and the Blacks have produced several Gifted shape-shifters over the years.”

“Still don’t get it.”

Remus frowned. “A Talent is merely the singular expression of a Gift. An animagus can only become one animal; a metamorphagus is limited to human form. A Gifted shape-shifter can become anything: human, animal, magical being; nothing is impossible for them.”

Kiran bit his lip. “Then a Gifted person has no limits in a certain field?”

Remus nodded. “Basically. You might still favor certain things in the field, like some shape-shifters prefer four-legged creatures over those with wings, but there is very little you shouldn’t be able to master given enough time and training. You’ll be able to do more than Madam Pomfrey ever could.”

“I don’t really want to become a Healer –” Kiran started to say before Remus interrupted him.

“Then what do you plan to do once you’ve rescued Sirius from the Veil?”

Kiran paused. “I don’t know.” He hadn’t given it any thought.

“Then what will you be able to do if you’ve spent all your time trying to free Sirius and none of it towards your future?”

Remus paused. “It’s not like you’ll need to work given your inheritance, but anyone would be pleased to have the aid of a Gifted Healer and they can do a lot of good. There are some things that only Gifted Healers have a chance of healing and the number of truly Gifted Healers in Europe can be counted on two hands. There are less than 50 world-wide and most refuse to take on werewolf patients.”

“Why?” Kiran pursed his lips; that was rather narrow-minded.

“Most of them don’t bother to learn how to deal with our wolves or prefer stick to their own species. Elves refuse to heal anyone but other elves without absurd levels of compensation and our bodies won’t accept magic from a vampire,” Remus elaborated. “The wolf inside werewolf Gifted Healers makes it difficult to heal anyone not a werewolf, most humans are unfairly prejudiced against other species and daemons rarely produced Gifted Healers due to their innate elemental affiliation.”

“So the Pack needs a Healer,” Kiran summarized.

“Yes,” the Alpha admitted. “And after the war with Voldemort is finally over, you’ll need something to balance the death you’ll cause and a healthy profession to pursue, one that doesn’t involve death.”

The teen looked at Remus. “Healing won’t help me get Sirius back.”

Remus stopped himself from baring his teeth. “Considering K’ver’s reputation,” – and your previous adventures at Hogwarts – “do you think you’ll have time to research the Veil?”

Kiran frowned. “I’ll make time.” Sirius would be free.

“It might be better to hire someone to do the research for you,” Remus persisted. “They can do the legwork and you can concentrate on surviving K’ver and completing your classes. Sirius would rather have you alive than be back a year early.”

Kiran leaned back against his pillows and bit his bottom lip. Moony had a point.

Remus dropped the privacy spell and tucked his wand back into his sleeve. “Just think about it.” 

The werewolf ruffled Kiran’s hair before heading for the tent exit. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Stay in bed.”

Kiran frowned because he was already starting to get bored and called for Betony. “Do you know where my wand is?”

The werewolf immediately produced the wand from a nearby drawer and handed it over to Kiran.

“Thanks.” Kiran rolled the wand between his fingers thoughtfully. “You mind staying around for a little bit? I want to try something.”

“It will be no trouble.” Betony smiled down at Kiran. “I have a few stationary chores to complete.”

Betony grabbed two large baskets and settled down in the chair next to the cot to strip the plants of their leaves and petals as Kiran focused on his wand. Time to see if he’d gotten enough magic back yet for Lumos.

Kiran attempted the spell and frowned. He could feel something stirring in his magic, smaller than usual, but his wand hadn’t responded at all. Well, he’d just have to run through every spell he knew in hope of finding a spell to which his wand would respond.

.~.~.~.

Kiran lifted his wand from his lap as soon as Remus returned to the tent that evening.

“I don’t think my wand works anymore.” The teen waved the piece of wood in an attempt to put up the simple privacy ward Hermoine had once shown him. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t work.

“Your wand doesn’t work,” Remus repeated flatly as he put up his own privacy ward.

“It won’t respond,” Kiran admitted with a frown. “It felt like something broke when I was trying to heal Trystan and nothing’s worked since.”

“Thestral hair isn’t exactly conductive to healing,” the werewolf muttered. “We’ll have to get you a proper focus from Ollivander after your birthday and our trip to Gringotts.”

“Meanwhile you should work with whatever wandless magic you can accomplish using your core.” Remus fingered his wand. “It’ll be good to have some type of wandless magic under your belt before you start at K’ver just in case something happens to your focus. If your core can support the work, try to heal something small every five or six hours to acclimate yourself to healing without causing magical exhaustion.”

“If you’re going to be wandering around without a functioning wand, you’ll need to carry a blade.” Remus paused. “Your daggers should do fine, but we need to find a way for you to carry your chain whip.”

Kiran looked around the tent. “Where are they anyway?”

“Right where you left them, in your bag. We’re going to talk about that, by the way. You should have at least drawn one of the two.”

Kiran nodded and said point-blank, “I want to learn how to apparate,”

Remus nodded. “I’ll teach you before your birthday. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours to get the basics down and the rest is practice.”

“Then we’ll apparate back to Britain?”

“No, we’ll take another international portkey. And you shouldn’t apparate long distances without a focus anyway.”

“But it’s okay to heal people?”

“Small things only: scrapes, scratches, cuts. Don’t even consider trying anything like you did with Trystan,” Remus reprimanded. “It’s like strengthening a muscle with small, but ever-increasing loads. Start small and work your way up to larger tasks.

“Let’s begin with Lumos,” the Alpha suggested and settled in to help Kiran.

.~.~.~.

Kiran looked up from his practice with Remus when he felt someone hovering on the other side of his bed outside the privacy ward. 

Trystan waited patiently for acknowledgement, but Kiran wasn’t quite sure why the other teen was there. Maybe he was sent to fetch Remus for the treaty.

Remus dropped the privacy ward to talk to Trystan, but the other werewolf angled towards Kiran before dropping to one knee.

“I offer you the death of the male boar and my most humble thanks for the gift of life which you have restored unto me,” Trystan said carefully and distinctly before he flicked his eyes up to look at Kiran. “It would be an honor to offer an oath of loyalty.”

The human tilted his head to the side in confusion before opening his mouth. 

“Kiran, don–” was the only warning Remus managed to get out before his cub spoke.

“Thank you, bu–” Kiran started to respond before he was interrupted in turn by Trystan.

“It is an honor,” the teen werewolf said as he smiled, looking down to the left as he inclined his head before rising to his feet. Remus simply leaned back in his chair and sighed as he massaged his temples; there went his hope to keep Kiran out of Pack politics.

“Killian will want to offer his own oath, but we’ll return once we’ve moved our tent into your clearing.” Trystan offered that odd, tilted nod again before leaving the tent.

“What just happened?” Kiran asked his guardian in shock. Trystan had never acted like that before and he didn’t understand why the werewolf was suddenly refusing to meet his eyes.

“You just formed a Tribe,” Remus responded with a wry smile. “If a werewolf swears loyalty to someone that automatically makes them part of that person’s Tribe – or in your case, forms a Tribe with you as alpha because Trystan swore his oath directly to you.”

“Is there any way to undo it?”

“No.” Remus answered firmly. “You’d have to be dead or do something so horrendous that he’d voluntarily revoke his oath.”

“So…how exactly do Tribes work?” Kiran asked with a guilty grin.

Remus withdrew his wand and cast another privacy spell around them.

“Consider the Tri-Wizard Tournament,” the werewolf started and shot Kiran a disapproving look when it looked like he was going to interrupt the Alpha. 

“Not the tournament itself,” Remus placated, “just the fact that three wizarding schools are involved. Every school preferred their own champion, yes?”

Kiran nodded. Hogwarts hadn’t really been sure about what they were supposed to do with their second champion, but what Remus said was basically true.

“For the sake of discussion, we’ll say all of Durmstrang are vampires, Beauxbatons is full of Veela, and Hogwarts is only populated by werewolves. In the same manner that Hogwarts students generally preferred and defended their fellow students from other schools, werewolves generally prefer other werewolves and will defend them against others.”

Kiran nodded; that made sense.

“Now, consider each House to be a Pack, and you’re closer to understanding werewolf behavior.”

Kiran nodded in understanding. “Each Pack prefers its own members over those of other Packs.” 

“Tribes can then be considered to be the different groups of friends within the Houses. Just as you would side with Ron or Neville over Lavender, Tribes spend the majority of their time with each other and defend those of the Tribe first and foremost, but just like with friends, it’s possible to belong to more than one Tribe at a time.”

Kiran frowned in confusion. If Packs were exclusive, why weren’t Tribes?

“You were part of the Golden Trio and the Quidditch team at the same time,” Remus pointed out gently, “just like you are a part of my Tribe and simultaneously the alpha of your own Tribe. Due to the fact your position in my Tribe is that of a child under parental protection, and you haven’t sworn loyalty to me as your Tribe alpha, you aren’t required to obey me unless I speak as the Pack Alpha. Most werewolves will belong to family Tribes until they die, but only tend to obey the Tribe alpha they’ve chosen once they reach their teens.

“You’re stuck with them now,” Moony grins at Kiran, face full of mischief. “Better get used to it.”

Kiran grins back, pleased to see Moony’s humor despite the responsibility heaped on Remus’ shoulders as Alpha and the grief from Sirius’ imprisonment.

Kiran’s smile slid into a quizzical expression. “So… what exactly does that mean for me?” 

“They’ll follow you around, protect you,” Moony grinned again, “and basically act like close friends that skipped the getting-to-know-you and jumped straight to best mates.”

Kiran relaxed back into his pillows. “Won’t be able to treat them like Ron and Hermione.”

“Just think of them as a cross between your other Gryffindor friends and rather friendly bodyguards until you get used to them.”

Kiran quirked his lips into a guilty sort of half-smile. “If they’re my bodyguards, then can I leave the tent tomorrow?”

Remus started to shake his head and paused. “If you feel strong enough, and provided Trystan and Killian are with you, you can attend the treaty celebrations tomorrow.”

The Alpha stood. “I have a few things to take care of before we sign the treaty tomorrow. Sleep well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone still paying attention, here’s the first half of Chapter 12. Thank you for still being interested even though it’s taken forever for me to post anything and I hope you enjoy the update.


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